Stalked
by hbwgonnabe
Summary: To keep in order, you should read Change first. Frank is targeted by someone for some unknown reason. Is it someone with an obsessive interest in him or someone who wants him gone?
1. Chapter 1

Stalked Chapter One by hbwgonnabe

"Catch!" eighteen-year-old Frank Hardy shouted at his year younger brother, Joe.

Blue-eyed Joe looked up from the magazine he was reading in time to see an aero-projectile slam into his face. Joe shot his brother the evil eye and put the magazine down. He bent over and retrieved the offending wad of paper and stood up. Taking aim, he let fly at his brother.

The paper sailed through the air, missing Frank as he easily jumped to the side. Frank laughed as he looked down at the paper. "You mis..." he started to say but was cut off as something crashed into his left cheek. 

Joe burst out laughing as Frank stooped down to see what had hit him. Frank picked up the paper and uncurled it. It was a subscription card from the magazine Joe had been reading. He looked over at Joe with sparkling brown eyes. "Dirty pool!" he shouted, a grin on his handsome face. He picked up the other wad of paper and dropped them both in a nearby waste receptacle.

Joe picked his magazine up from the bench and walked over to where Frank stood. "I didn't expect you back so soon," Joe said shoving a stray lock of blond hair from his eyes. 

"Me either," Frank stated, his expression taking on a puzzled look. "Ben said he didn't call."

Frank and Joe had arrived home thirty minutes earlier from visiting Chet Morton, their best friend, to receive a message taken by their mother informing Frank he should go to the computer shop downtown to pick up the Zip drive he had just won.

Frank had wanted to go right down, so Joe tagged along, wanting to run into the drugstore and pick up the latest issue of his magazine. He and Frank had agreed to meet in the park after they had finished.

"Then who did?" Joe asked. 

"I don't know," Frank replied running a hand through his brown mane. "But it had to be someone who knew I had entered the contest."

"And the point of getting you to the computer shop would be?" Joe asked.

"I don't know," Frank said a bit more forcibly. Why did Joe expect him to know everything?

They reached the van and Frank went around to the driver's side, removing his key ring from his pocket as he did so. He unlocked the door and was about to get behind the wheel when he noticed an envelope on the dashboard. "Joe!" he shouted over at his brother. "Did we lock the van?"

"Of course," Joe replied, tugging on his own door. "We always do." He walked around to where Frank stood. "What's wrong?"

Frank reached inside and picked up the envelope. "Someone left us a calling card," he stated. He opened the envelope and pulled out a set of five instant photos.

"They're all of you," Joe observed, a worried frown on his face. 

The first picture was of Frank getting out of the van at the Morton's earlier that afternoon. The second showed him laughing on the Morton's front porch. The third was of him walking up the steps to his own house. The fourth was a picture of him entering the computer shop. And the fifth picture was of Frank talking to a middle-aged man in jeans and a green tee shirt. 

"Me and Ben," Frank said, frowning. "And they were all taken today."

"Someone has been following you," Joe stated the obvious. "Have you made anyone mad recently?"

Frank gave Joe a sour expression. "We make people mad all the time," he reminded Joe.

"Yeah, but this is aimed at you, not us," Joe pointed out.

Frank opened his mouth to object but snapped it shut quickly. Joe was right. All the pictures were of him even though Joe had been with him most of the day.

"For that matter," Joe continued, interrupting Frank's thoughts. "Maybe someone just likes you and wanted to get your attention. No damage has been done and we could have forgotten to lock the van," he reasoned.

"Maybe," Frank said a bit hesitantly. "But, to be on the safe side, you check under the van and I'll check inside. We'll both look under the hood."

Joe gave an accepting shrug before dropping to the ground and scooting beneath it. Frank climbed into the van and searched the glove compartment and beneath the seats and anywhere else something might be hidden.

Joe finished under the van and asked Frank to pop the hood after feeling around for anything unusual. Frank pulled the latch and the hood popped up. Both boys bent over the engine looking for any sign of tampering.

"Nothing,' Frank said, closing the hood. "I just don't get it."

"Well, let's run the pictures down to the police station," Joe suggested. "Maybe they can pick up some prints."

Joe got behind the wheel and Frank got in on the passenger side. "I don't remember any new kids at this year except for Camille, so we can probably rule out anyone from school," Joe said.

"Have you met anyone new lately?" Joe asked, glancing over at Frank who seemed to be deep in thought. "Joe, you're right! It couldn't be anyone at school. I know, it must have been someone I met last night at the lecture," Joe imitated Frank's voice and response after not getting one from him.

"You're brilliant!" Frank enthused, coming out of his thoughts and looking at Joe. "The lecture I attended with Callie at Bayport University last night is the only chance I've had to meet anyone new for days. And you weren't there," he added, explaining to himself why Joe hadn't been targeted in the photographs.

"But why would someone go to all of the trouble to take pictures and then give them to you?" Joe asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

"There are ten photos per cartridge for instant cameras," Frank pointed out. "Maybe someone took two at a time and then gave me a set to show what they had."

"Again, I ask why?" Joe said, pulling to a stop in front of the police station.

"I don't know," Frank replied with a frown. "For all I know the pictures could be from someone who just wants me to worry." He saw Joe's mouth open.

"Don't say anything," he snapped as he opened the door and got out. "Wait here," he added. "I won't be long."

Joe watched Frank go into the station with a frown on his face. He wasn't used to Frank being a target and he intended to find out who was after him and why. 

Frank returned in less than ten minutes and got back into the van. "Chief Collig will call and let us know if they get any prints besides mine from them," he informed his brother.

Joe nodded, started the van and drove home. Once inside, their mother gave a shout for them to come into the kitchen. "Here you go," said the petite blond who looked so much like Joe as she handed each boy a stack of folded clothing. "You two arrived just in time to save me a trip," explained Laura Hardy, the boys mother.

"But of course," Joe told her in a dignified voice and his nose in the air. "Our timing is always impeccable."

"Impeccably bad more often than not," she teased, kissing her youngest son on the cheek.

Frank grinned at the sour face Joe made before heading upstairs with his load. Joe followed close behind. "Have you thought anymore about who you met at the lecture last night?" Joe asked, walking into his bedroom which was closer to the stairs than Frank's.

"There were about six people I actually talked to," Frank said, going through Joe's room to the bathroom that connected the boys two rooms. He came to a standstill just shy of crossing into his room, his eyes opening wide.

"What's wrong?" Joe demanded, noticing how suddenly Frank had stopped. He went to look over Frank's shoulder and let out a low whistle. "What a mess," he observed.

Frank's clothing, now in tatters, was strewn all over the floor and his bedspread was lying in shreds by the bed. His pillow had been cut open and feathers were lying all over the room. The picture of himself and Joe that had been hanging on the wall just above his bed had been defaced with red spray paint covering his face entirely. 


	2. Chapter 2

Stalked Chapter Two by hbwgonnabe

Joe grabbed Frank's arm and pulled him back through to his room. "This guy may still be here," he whispered into Frank's ear, releasing his arm.

"I'll check around up here and you look downstairs," Frank said, starting back towards his room. 

"No way," Joe said, snagging Frank's arm again and making him stop once more. "He's after you and I am not letting you serve yourself to him on a silver platter," he hissed angrily. "You go down and get mom out of the house," he continued, taking Frank's clothes from his arms and dropping them on his own bed. "I'll look around up here. And call the police," he added, heading for the bathroom door only to be stopped when Frank grabbed his arm.

"Let's both get mom out of the house and let her call the police while we check out the place together," Frank suggested. 

Joe sighed and gave in. Even when Frank was the one in danger he was still looking out for Joe. After they had gotten their mother to go next door and call the police, the two began a methodical search of the house. 

"Our intruder is gone," Frank said after peering out the open attic window. Joe looked out and saw a couple of feathers from Frank's pillow on the roof near the gutter. "They must have clung to his pants," Frank said.

"Or hers," Joe put in. Frank raised an eyebrow. "It could be a female who took the pictures and trashed your room," Joe pointed out , raising one shoulder in a 'why not' motion. He wasn't about to be sexist in this scenario.

"It was probably the same person who called and had me go to the computer store," Frank said. "All we have to do is ask mom if it was a woman or man and that will eliminate half of the population as suspects," he added.

"I thought she said Ben called, which means that whomever is after you is a man," Joe said, accepting Frank's last comment.

"I just assumed it was Ben," Frank denied with a shake of his head. "It could have been a woman," he admitted.

The two went downstairs and stepped out onto the porch in time to see a police cruiser turn the corner at the end of the lane. They waited patiently as the car drove up to their driveway and stopped. Sergeant Con Riley, a lean man with curly brown hair and kind brown eyes stepped from the driver's side and made his way up to the boys. He was joined by his partner of almost a year, Officer O'Neil. Frank led the two men inside and up to his bedroom while Joe went next door to retrieve their mother.

Two hours later, after Riley, O'Neil, and the forensics team they had called in had left, Joe helped Frank clean up the mess. Frank dropped the remnants of his pillow into a trash bag and then sat down on his bed. "This is ridiculous," he stated, frowning. "Who would want to do this to me?"

"Have you made Callie mad?" Joe asked jokingly, mentioning Frank's blond- headed girlfriend. "Mom did say it was a woman's voice on the phone this morning."

"Very funny," Frank replied, making a face at Joe that left him in no doubt that such jokes were not permissible. He watched as Joe threw away his ripped pajamas. "I don't have anything left to wear to bed tonight," he complained. "If mom hadn't done the laundry today, I wouldn't even have anything to wear to school tomorrow."

"Relax," Joe told him with a grin. "They're just clothes. You can get some new ones after school tomorrow. And as for tonight, you can borrow a pair of mine," he offered. "Better too big than too small," he added, eyeing his elder brother's smaller frame.

"Thanks," Frank accepted with a smile. "You're right. I shouldn't let it get to me."

"That's the ticket," Joe said, winking at him. "I'll grab you a pair of jammies and you can have the shower first," he added, heading back into his own room.

His blue pajamas were lying on the back of his desk chair where he had left them this morning so he decided to let Frank use the beige ones with little ducks all over them. He pulled open his drawer but didn't see them. 'Must still be dirty,' he thought and pulled out a pair of light green ones with short sleeves.

"Here you go," Joe said, stepping into the bathroom and handing them to Frank.

"Fanks," mumbled Frank through a mouthful of toothpaste. Joe went back to his room and left Frank to get ready for bed.

A little later, after Joe finished getting ready for bed, Frank came into his room and sat down on Joe's bed. "Okay," he said as Joe looked at him questioningly. "I'm going to cut study hall tomorrow since it's my last class and get some new clothes," he told Joe. "I'll be back in the parking lot in time to pick you up after football practice. We'll head over to the university and start digging then."

"Sounds like a plan," Joe agreed with a yawn. "I do have one question, though," he added. "What was that lecture about anyway?"

Frank turned red. "How not to make yourself a victim," he answered. "It was part of a self-defense seminar and Callie didn't want to go alone," he answered in a tone that defied Joe to make a pun on the subject.

"I see," Joe replied, trying hard not to laugh although a snicker did escape.

Frank's eyes narrowed on his brother as he rose from the bed. "Night, Baby Brother," he said, closing the bathroom door behind him as Joe's laughter erupted.

"Have you made a list of the people you talked to last night?" Joe asked the next afternoon as he climbed into the van.

"Yes," Frank replied. "I arrived ten minutes ago and finished it just as you got here."

Joe looked behind him. "Where are your new clothes?" he asked.

"I ran into Mom downtown and she agreed to take them home for me," Frank answered, handing Joe the list. "She said Dad called," he continued, starting the van. "He should be home sometime tonight or tomorrow at the latest."

Joe looked at the four names on the list Frank had handed him. "Craig Reynolds," Joe read aloud.

"He was the speaker," Frank identified him. "About thirty with light brown hair and a mustache. He's my height but weighs about twenty pounds less."

"Sounds like a man who would have to practice what he teaches," Joe observed.

"He is as skinny as a rail," agreed Frank. "But he's a forceful speaker and he makes his presence known."

"You think he may have targeted you to teach you something?" Joe inquired quirking an eyebrow.

"I really doubt it's him," Frank replied with a shake of his head. "He doesn't strike me as the type."

"And what type would a stalker be?" Joe demanded.

"Brooding?" Frank queried with the lift of a brow and a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't know."

"Larry Snow," Joe read the next name on the list, his forehead wrinkling in thought. "That name sounds familiar," he said.

"He was with the next person on the list, Jeff Miller," Frank told Joe. "Swan is roughly six three, about two hundred and eighty pounds, muscular, approaching thirty-five years old with..."

"With curly black hair, brown eyes and a deep tan," Joe finished for him. "Not to mention he's buff."

"How do you know him?" Frank asked in amazement.

"He was at Stoney's Gym the other day," Joe explained. "He and the owner, Stoney Jones, went to high school together. When Swan moved back to Bayport a few months ago, he looked Stoney up."

"You seem to know a lot about him," Frank observed.

"We talked while he spotted me on weights," Joe informed him. "Okay, what about Jeff Miller?"

"Five nine, about two hundred pounds, almost bald and about thirty-five," Frank said. "Very paunchy."

"Maybe Miller went to school with Swan too," Joe observed. "They are about the same age."

"It's possible," Frank admitted.

"And the next person on your list is Lacey Myers," Joe read. "What's she like?"

"Early twenties; long black hair; green eyes. Very pretty," Frank ended. "She and Callie talked a lot."

"A student?" Joe asked.

"Reynolds' assistant," Frank declared, shaking his head. "She's the co-author of Free from Fear."

"The book the lecture was based on?" inquired Joe. Frank nodded. "Are Reynolds and Myers at the University or were they guests for the lecture?"

"They teach self defense there," Frank answered.

"That leaves Corwin and Angelina Dobson," Joe said.

"I met them last night but they can't really be included as suspects," Frank said.

"Why not?" Joe demanded, narrowing his blue eyes on his brother. What possible reason could Frank have for not suspecting them.

"They were there with Mayor Simpson," Frank explained. 

"The mayor was there?" Joe asked in amazement.

Frank nodded. "His sister and her husband wanted to attend the lecture before returning to California the next day," he explained.

"His sister?" Joe repeated. "Angelina?" Frank nodded.

Joe looked over the list again, trying to remember everything he and Swan had talked about as they finished the trip to the university. By the time they had arrived, Joe still hadn't decided whether or not he would make an ideal suspect.

After being directed to the Physical Education building by a young man and his girlfriend, the two made their way to Dr. Reynolds' office on the second floor.

"Enter!" came Reynolds strong voice from behind his office door when Frank knocked.

Frank opened the door and went inside the small office followed by Joe who closed the door behind him. Reynolds gestured the two boys to a couple of chairs in front of his desk as he leaned back in his own to watch them.

"We don't mean to intrude," Frank apologized, sitting down. "But I do need to ask you some questions."

"About what?" Reynolds inquired, staring at Joe.

"I'm sorry," Frank apologized again as he realized he hadn't introduced Joe. "This is my brother, Joe. I'm..."

"You're the young man from the lecture the other night," Reynolds ended Frank's sentence with a brief nod of acknowledgement. "Nice to meet you Joe," he added. Joe smiled at him. "Now, how may I help you?" he asked, giving Frank his full attention.

"I'm not exactly sure," Frank admitted. "But you are an expert on not being a target and I was wondering if you could give me... us some pointers."

"Someone has decided to stalk Frank," Joe said, coming to the point. "Not only do we not know who but we don't know why." 


	3. Chapter 3

Stalked Chapter Three by hbwgonnabe

"Direct and to the point. I like that," Reynolds returned with a smile. "Sit down," he continued, waving a hand at the remaining chair.

Joe took a seat and Frank began relating the case thus far. "Sounds like more than stalking," Reynolds remarked when Frank finished. "Stalking generally begins without the knowledge of the victim. Breaking and entering is an advanced stage. But the pictures lying in the van from the day they were taken?" He paused and shook his head. "That doesn't fit in with any case I've studied.

"So maybe we aren't dealing with a stalker?" Frank asked, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.

"I didn't say that," Reynolds denied with a firm shake of his head. "Each case does have similarities, but it also has its singularities."

"Are you going to give another lecture?" asked Joe, wondering if he might be able to pick up some pointers on the subject.

"Not this semester, I'm afraid," Reynolds replied regretfully. "But there are a few books on the subject you could read," he continued, seeing the crestfallen expression on the youth's face.

"Yes, my girlfriend has all of the ones you mentioned in your lecture," Frank told him, shooting a look at Joe to let him know he could get Callie to lend them to him if he would like.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," Reynolds told Frank who had appeared more than a little uncomfortable since his arrival. "Anyone can become a target. It's how you deal with it that makes you a victim or the victor."

"Could you tell us about some of the people who attended the seminar?" asked Frank. "Lacey Myers, Jeff Miller and Larry Swan for instance?"

"Why?" Reynolds asked, looking at him thoughtfully.

"Since Frank is the target and the break-in occurred yesterday along with the pictures, we think the person behind this has to be someone he met recently," Joe explained. "And the only new people he has met recently were at the seminar."

"Just because these incidents happened yesterday doesn't mean the culprit is a new acquaintance," Reynolds said. "It's more probably someone you've known for months. Were you a little older I would even add years to that."

"Well, we have to start somewhere," Joe said. "And working backwards seems like a good place to start."

"Take charge," Reynolds said, smiling his approval. "That's good. Take the offensive. I can tell you don't make yourself a target."

"Sure about that?" Joe countered with a wry grin. "Some people believe I have a bull's eyes tattooed to my back just begging someone to come after me."

"You may have the bull's eyes young man, but I would be willing to bet you didn't put it there and once you see it, you do whatever it takes to get rid of it," Reynolds stated with conviction.

Joe grinned but remained silent. "About those people?" Frank interrupted, not particularly liking the way Reynolds was eyeing his brother. The speculative gleam in his eyes was almost predatory.

"I'm afraid Lacey is the only person you named that I know," Reynolds answered, looking at Frank. "What would you like to know about her?"

"How long have you known her? How long has she worked for you? Things along that nature," Frank returned.

"I met Lacey at UCLA in September of last year," Reynolds began. "She was very outspoken and knew the material I was covering as well as I did. We connected and formed a partnership."

"With a student?" Frank asked, frowning.

"I was a guest speaker at UCLA; not a teacher," Reynolds defended himself. "And Lacey is not a student here. She is my assistant."

"She gave up her studies to assist you?" Frank asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Of course not," Reynolds denied with a wave of his hand. "Lacey is still getting her degree. But she is taking the majority of her classes online. You see, Lacey is more than my assistant: she's my fiancée."

"We didn't expect it to be easy," Joe said, looking at his disgruntled brother and grinning.

"We still have Swan and Miller to check out," Frank said, agreeing with his brother. "Thank you for your time," he said to Reynolds, standing up and holding out his hand.

"Before you leave, could I have a word with Joe?" Reynolds said, shaking Frank's hand but looking at Joe questioningly.

"Of course," Frank agreed, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"Alone," Reynolds specified when Frank remained where he stood.

"Sure," Frank forced the word through his lips. As he passed by Joe, he shot him a look to let him know all he had to do was shout and he would be back in a flash.

Reynolds followed Frank to the door and shut it so Frank couldn't hear what was being said. Frank leaned on the wall directly opposite the door and stared at it, wondering what Reynolds could possibly want with his brother. Five minutes later, the door opened and Joe exited, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Well?" snapped Frank, kicking away from the wall and getting in Joe's face.

Joe quirked an eyebrow. "Jealous?" he teased, not bothering to hide his amusement at Frank's unexpected display of childishness.

Frank scowled his displeasure and Joe laughed openly. "Easy, Bro," Joe told him after his laughter had died down. "Dr. Reynolds is making a self-help video and wanted me to be one of the actors. He was intrigued by my being a frequent target and thought others would be as well."

"That's all?" asked Frank incredulously.

"Scout's honor," Joe replied holding up his two-finger pledge from days of yore.

"Are you going to?" Frank asked him as they headed down the hall.

"Nah," Joe denied. "He and Lacey have already started filming and he wanted me to start this afternoon."

"You can," Frank told him. "I wouldn't mind."

"But I would," Joe said, turning to frown at him. "Until we find out who is after you, I'm your shadow."

"Thanks, Bro," Frank said, touched.

"No thanks necessary," Joe told him. 'Did Frank really think he would desert him?' "You're my number one priority," Joe continued. "Always."

Frank smiled and slapped Joe gently on the back. "Where to next?" he asked.

"Stoney's Gym?" Joe suggested.

"Great idea," agreed Frank. "But why don't we run home for some dinner first?" he countered, hearing Joe's stomach growl. "Mom will wonder where we've gotten to and if Dad is home, we can see what he thinks."

"Hi, Mom," Joe greeted his mother when he and Frank entered the living room a little later. "Dad home yet?"

"He called from the airport just a few minutes ago," she said. "He should be home in about half an hour. Any luck?" she asked, changing the subject.

"No," answered Frank. "But after dinner we're going to head over to Stoney's Gym. Joe said one of our suspects goes there."

"Dinner will be ready when your father arrives," Laura told them. "You two had better do your homework."

Frank and Joe retreated upstairs. "Need any help?" offered Frank.

"Thanks, I got it," Joe replied, forcing a smile. He knew his brother only offered to help him because he cared, but it made him believe that Frank didn't think he was capable of doing well on his own. Maybe years of Frank being called the 'smart one' was finally starting to take its toll.

Joe went into his bedroom feeling awful. He didn't want Frank to think he was dumb. It was bad enough that most everyone else believed he was a dumb jock. Joe sat down at his desk and reached for his favorite pencil, a rainbow colored one with the eraser bitten off. He wrinkled his nose and grabbed a new yellow one when he saw it was gone from the holder.

"Joe," Frank opened the bathroom door and entered his brother's room.

"What?" Joe asked, turning around. He frowned when he saw the look on his brother's face and got up. Frank held out a piece of paper for Joe to see.

"This was in my printer," Frank told Joe.

In big bold type were the words: I'M WATCHING YOU 


	4. Chapter 4

Stalked Chapter Four by hbwgonnabe

"No point in dusting for prints," Frank said resignedly. "None were found the last time."

"When did your admirer return?" Joe wondered, his face broken out in a scowl.

"It must have been while Mom and I were both out," Frank replied. "Mom told me she had left right after lunch and was on her way home so the window of opportunity was between twelve thirty and going on four."

"That's great!" Joe enthused, his face brightening up. "Now all we have to do is find out where our suspects were at that time."

"I hope it is one of our suspects," Frank said. "If it isn't, and Reynolds is right, it could be anyone."

"Think positive, brother dear," Joe reprimanded him, portraying the optimist. "Anything disturbed in your room? Apart from your computer, obviously?"

"I never checked," admitted Frank. The two boys went into Frank's bedroom. Joe began taking tags off of Frank's new clothes while Frank looked around his room.

"Nothing missing or out of place," Frank finally reported.

"That's good," Joe said. "I like this one," he added, holding up a bright neon green shirt. "Can I borrow it?"

"Actually, I got that one for you," Frank told him, grinning. "It just screamed "Joe!"."

"Thanks!" Joe accepted the gift with a huge smile on his face. "I'll wear it to school tomorrow."

"Speaking of which, I didn't mean to interrupt you," Frank apologized.

"No sweat," Joe replied. "I only have one page of trig problems."

"Oh," Frank said. "You should have said," he continued. "I wouldn't have offered to help."

"You wouldn't?" Joe asked in surprise.

"No way," Frank denied empathetically. "I'll only help with something you actually need help with: like memorizing dates, people and events in history."

Joe wrinkled his nose. "I hate history."

"I know," Frank told him. "That's why I don't mind helping you with it."

Joe took his new shirt and headed toward his own room. He stopped at the entrance to the bathroom door and turned back to face Frank, feeling like a heel for doubting his brother's faith in him. "Thanks," he said, then turned and left without explaining.

Frank cocked an eyebrow at Joe's retreating back then shrugged and returned to putting away his new clothes. He would do his homework once they returned from Stoney's Gym.

Fenton leaned back and set his fork down. When he had returned home he had expected one of two things: a quiet evening with the boys staying home and spending some quality time with their parents or a mystery in the air with Joe deep in the middle. He would never have imagined a stalker would have targeted his eldest son.

"I don't think it's a wise idea for you to go anywhere alone," Fenton told Frank. "Until this person is caught, I want your brother with you at all times unless you are at home."

"But someone's gotten in twice," Joe pointed out. "He isn't exactly safe here."

"Was the alarm on when the break-ins occurred?" inquired Fenton.

"No," Laura confessed. "It's been so quiet around here lately, I've forgotten to arm the system when I leave." She looked at Frank. "I'm sorry, honey."

"From now until this is over, the alarm is to remain on all of the time," Fenton decreed. "It will be disarmed only when someone has arrived or is leaving. Is it on now?" Frank and Joe looked at each other and blushed. Laura gave her husband an apologetic look.

Fenton stood up. "Frank, check the attic and upstairs. Joe, you take the basement and this floor. I will check the kitchen and garage. Laura, you wait in the kitchen and when we give you the all clear, turn the alarm on."

"The garage is clear," Fenton stated a few minutes later when he reentered the kitchen.

"There isn't anyone upstairs," said Frank, entering the kitchen two minutes later. "Joe not done?"

"We will help him finish up," Fenton decided. "Go ahead and turn it on," he instructed Laura.

Laura keyed in the password and security code. "All set," she said, her words drowning as the alarm went off.

"Joe must have set it off," Frank groaned, hurrying out of the kitchen with his father on his heels.

"Dad!" Frank shouted in alarm, seeing the front door and the basement door both wide open. Frank ran down the basement steps, and fell to his knees beside the prone figure of his younger brother. 

"Joe," he gasped softly, his brown eyes wide with fear. Joe's blond hair was covered with blood! 


	5. Chapter 5

Stalked Chapter Five by hbwgonnabe

"He got away," Fenton said, running down the basement stairs. "A blue..." he broke off when he saw Joe lying still on the cold, cement floor.

"Call an ambulance," Frank ordered his father who had already started back up the stairs to do just that.

Frank's eyes scanned the basement that Joe had turned into a darkroom when he had taken up photography over two years ago. Except for the absence of photos hanging up to dry, nothing looked disturbed. Even the second door leading into the basement from the kitchen was untouched, largely because of the various boxes of items marked rummage sale his mother was storing just inside the entrance, he was sure. He bit his bottom lip and checked Joe's pulse again. He knew there hadn't been time, but still he wondered why the ambulance wasn't there. Every second his brother was unconscious seemed to tick by in slow motion. 

"How is he?" Laura asked, coming down the steps.

"His pulse is weak, but steady," Frank replied, looking at her with an encouraging smile. 

"Fenton is on the phone," she told him. "He said the intruder got away."

"He actually saw the guy?" Frank asked, his eyes lightening up. Laura nodded.

Fenton joined them at that point. "He hopped into a blue forerunner," he informed Frank. "He was a little over six feet tall with a muscular build," Fenton continued. "He seemed to be in good shape."

"Hair color?" asked Frank, wondering if the intruder had been Larry Swan.

"He had a hat on," Fenton answered with a shake of his head. "I'll go turn the paramedics in," he added, returning up the stairs as a siren echoed in the distance.

"I don't want to stay here," Joe complained later that night as he lay on a crisp clean sheet attached to a thin uncomfortable mattress in a hospital bed. "I've had bumps on the head before."

"But this bump took eight stitches to seal," Frank pointed out, giving his younger brother a stern look. "You are staying and I am going to be right here to make sure you don't even try to leave."

"No, you're not," Fenton countered quickly. "Laura is staying with Joe. You will be coming home with me," he stated firmly.

"But..." Frank began his objection, his brown eyes flashing angrily as he spun to face his father.

"No buts," Fenton interrupted sternly. "You have school tomorrow and you will have to call your friends and arrange for them to keep an eye on you while your brother is indisposed."

"But..." again, Frank tried to object.

"It's either that or protective custody," Fenton issued the ultimatum.

Joe sniggered. Usually he was the one in Frank's position and couldn't help but enjoy having the roles reversed because Frank always sided with their father in security matters. "And go straight home after school," Joe couldn't help but resist putting in. "I should be out of here and at home by then and we can hit Stoney's Gym."

Knowing he had no one on his side and fearing his father might carry through on his protective custody threat, Frank gave in. "Fine, but I'm not leaving until visiting hours are over," he declared defiantly.

"Whish is now," Laura said, smothering a grin, holding up her arm so Frank could see her watch.

Grimacing, Frank turned to Joe. His eyes narrowed on his little brother. "You're enjoying this!" he accused him.

"Welcome to my world," Joe returned, laughing outright but stopping quickly and moaning as the movement made his head pound.

"Time for you to leave," Laura said quickly. "Joe should be resting."

"Okay," Frank agreed, not wanting to be the reason his brother was suffering. "Take care and I will see you after school," he added, reaching out to ruffle Joe's hair out of habit but freezing briefly before letting his hand fall to his side when he realized he couldn't because Joe's hair was being held in place by the bandage circling his head.

"Can we come in?" asked Sergeant Con Riley from the door of Joe's hospital room the next morning.

"Of course," Laura answered, smiling at the curly-haired officer who was a good friend of her sons.

"Did you find anything?" Joe asked hopefully. Frank had already confided in him that the darkroom had been stripped of all the photographs it had contained.

"Actually, it wasn't our call," Con replied in an apologetic tone, entering the room with Officer O'Neil in tow. "We just came on duty but the chief said it would be okay if we stopped by to see how you were doing."

"How are you feeling?" Officer O'Neil asked Joe, looking at him through concern filled hazel eyes.

"Not too bad," Joe replied, smiling at the officer he had come to know very well over the past two years. 

"How is Frank?" Con asked from beside O'Neil, his five foot eleven frame dwarfed by his six foot three partner. "Any idea who is stalking him?"

"Stalking?" O'Neil asked, turning to look at Con in surprise. "I must have missed something. I thought we were doing a basic breaking and entering the day before yesterday at the Hardys'."

Joe shook his head. "No," he said. "Someone is definitely stalking Frank."

"I thought you were always the one in the thick of things," O'Neil said, eyeing Joe in disbelief.

"There's a first time for everything," Con told him, grinning wickedly. 

"Oh, ha ha," Joe replied sourly. "But this time, the culprit is after Frank," he added. "He was just stealing the pictures in my darkroom and I got in the way."

"Why would he take your pictures if he's after Frank?" Con wondered in puzzlement.

"Because I had scads of photos," Joe answered. "I've been developing pictures for mom and our friends. I'm sure there were a lot of Frank in them." Joe stopped speaking and a thoughtful look took hold of his features. "If the stalker is someone Frank just met then how would he know I have my own darkroom?" he wondered aloud. "Maybe Reynolds was right," he continued. "Maybe the stalker is someone we have known for some time."

"Reynolds?" O'Neil inquired.

"He gave a lecture that Frank attended over the weekend," Joe informed him and Con who was also paying close attention. "We went to see him yesterday at Bayport University and he said stalkers were usually someone you have known for a little while."

"Or someone who knows you," Con put in. He had dealt with stalkers before. 

Joe nodded. "Maybe we should pay Reynolds another visit," he said. "Frank and I could pick up some pointers."

The doctor arrived at this point and the two officers left so Joe could be checked before being released.

"Are you sure you feel up to this?" Frank asked Joe later that afternoon as they exited the house. They were headed to the university to speak with Reynolds again before going to Stoney's Gym. 

"Yes," Joe insisted. "I'm good as new. Well, almost," he added, gingerly touching the back of his head. "Just relax. I won't do anything strenuous," he promised.

The two boys arrived at the university and headed straight for Reynolds' office. "Identify yourselves," they were ordered as they reached the floor his office was located on.

"I'm Frank Hardy and this is my brother, Joe," Frank informed the university's police officer, removing his wallet and showing the man his driver's license. Joe did likewise.

"What business have you on this floor?" the officer demanded, looking at them suspiciously.

"We are here to see Dr. Reynolds," Frank answered.

"Why?" the officer demanded, his hazel eyes narrowed and his expression stern.

"That's between Reynolds and us," Frank replied, not turning his eyes away from the intense stare he was receiving.

"Cordy!" called out a young woman with long black hair that was swinging behind her back in a braid. "They are okay," she said to the officer, joining them after a brief jog down the hallway.

She looked at the boys through pale blue eyes and gave them a faint smile. "Craig told me about your visit yesterday," she told them.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Meyers?" asked Frank, noticing the sad way she looked at them and the strained smile she was wearing.

"Craig's missing," she answered. "One of his students said she saw him being forced into the back of a blue forerunner." 


	6. Chapter 6

Stalked Chapter Six by hbwgonnabe

"Our intruder!" gasped Frank in surprise. "But why abduct Dr. Reynolds?"

"What?" Lacey demanded.

"You know something about the doctor's disappearance?" the officer demanded.

Frank gave a condensed version of his problematic admirer and revealed their reason for returning to campus. "I just don't understand how it could be connected," he added, wearing a scowl of frustration. He hated not being able to make connections easily. 

"Who said it was?" the officer asked.

"Our father always taught us that in a mystery there are no coincidences," Joe stated.

"Then how are they connected?" the officer inquired with a smirk.

"If we can find that out then we will know who has Reynolds," Joe replied with a smirk of his own.

"Would you mind us looking around his office?" Frank asked Lacey.

"Yes," the officer replied at once.

"No," Lacey said, frowning at the officer. "Kidnapping goes a bit farther a field than the campus boundaries," she informed the officer. "So the Hardys are more than welcome to look around and ask questions."

Lacey turned to face the two teens. "I haven't been in Bayport long, but I have heard of you and your father," she said. "I would appreciate all of the help you care to give. And please, don't hesitate to let me know if there is anyway I can assist you."

"Thank you, Miss Myers," Joe said.

"Lacey, please," she said, smiling even though her eyes remained troubled. "Please find Craig?" she pleaded.

"We'll do our best," Frank promised.

The two boys continued on their way to Reynolds' office. "This is a nightmare," Joe commented, entering the overstuffed room behind Frank and closing the door behind him.

"I doubt we will find anything in the books," Frank told Joe, eyeing the stacks thoughtfully. "We should concentrate on the desk and file cabinet."

"I'll take the desk," Joe volunteered quickly. Starting from scratch meant going through each file and Frank wasn't only faster but also had a photographic memory and so would be able to make a connection faster if he did find something.

"I can't find anything that would lead to his being kidnapped," Joe said, leaning back in Reynolds' chair almost an hour later. He had gone through every drawer of the desk and every paper upon it.

"Me either," concurred Frank, frowning as he replaced another folder in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet.

"What?" Joe asked, recognizing the look that crossed his brother's face at once.

"What if my stalker did kidnap Reynolds?" Frank put forth his scenario. "He, or she, got worried when we came to see him before and grabbed him because he, or she, thought he could be helpful in us nabbing him."

"Or her," Joe amended, grinning. Callie and Frank had gotten into an argument about why Frank always considered the bad guy a 'he' so Frank had been trying not to assign gender. Most of the time he failed, but on the occasion when he did remember, Joe couldn't help but find it amusing.

"Or her," Frank acknowledged, his nose wrinkling in distaste because he knew his brother was picking on him.

"Possible," Joe concurred with Frank's theory.

"And probable," Frank continued. "Unless Reynolds has enemies we don't know about."

"Lacey?" queried Joe, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'll talk to her," Frank said. "Camille wanted you to call her since she wasn't sure if you would be home or not this afternoon."

"And you're just now telling me?" Joe demanded indignantly.

Frank shrugged. "Relax," he told his brother. "You only started dating her last month and even that was postponed because you got kidnapped."

"But I like Camille," Joe told him, still frowning his disapproval at Frank's negligence in passing on the message. "We haven't exactly known each other long enough for me to ask her to go steady."

"Actually, I think she would like for you too," Frank said, grinning. After a questioning look from his brother, he explained. "Camille told Callie she really likes you."

"When?" asked Joe, pleased.

"Last Wednesday," Frank answered. "So call her and I'll talk to Lacey."

"Do you think anyone would mind if I used Reynolds' phone?" asked Joe.

"I doubt it," replied Frank. "It isn't long distance," he added before leaving the small office.

Joe picked up the phone and dialed the Lane's phone number. Camille answered on the third ring. "Hi, Camille," Joe greeted her when she picked up and said 'hello'. 

"Are you okay?" she asked at once. "Are you still in the hospital?"

"I'm fine and, no," Joe answered. "I was released around noon. Frank just now told me you asked me to call you," he explained with a grimace.

"So you wouldn't have called if I hadn't requested it?" she asked, her tone bristling.

"I didn't want to seem pushy," Joe defended himself. "Not after what you went through because of me."

"I'm beginning to think you might be worth it," Camille told him, her voice softening. "So how about coming over for dinner tonight?" she asked.

"Can't," Joe replied regretfully. "We're working on a case."

"But you have to eat," she stated.

"But Frank's the target," Joe said. "And I don't want to let him out of my sight." He then told her about Dr. Reynolds disappearance.

"Are you sure this person's disappearance has to do with Frank?" Camille asked.

"We aren't a hundred percent sure, no," Joe replied. "But we are fairly certain. Dr. Reynolds gave us some tips about what to look for yesterday," he explained. "We came back today to see if he could give us any more help but..." he let his voice trail off, seeing no need to repeat himself.

"What kind of help?" Camille asked curiously.

"We thought the stalker had to be someone Frank just met but according to Reynolds, it couldn't be. It has to be someone we have known for at least a little while," Joe told her. "Whoever it is has to have been around long enough to know quite a bit about us. He would have to know I have a darkroom in the basement, otherwise, why go there at all? 

"And how could he have taken the pictures of Frank at Chet's? We're too good at spotting people who are following us for us not to have noticed; especially since the Morton farm is on the outskirts of town. That patch of road is long and straight but there are a lot of side roads along the way we could have taken," Joe ended.

"I'm fairly new, but I know where your friends live," Camille teased Joe. "I could be your stalker."

"No, you couldn't," Joe retorted. "I bet you don't even know I'm really into photography."

"No, I didn't," Camille answered, casting a mournful glance at the camera and photography magazines on the kitchen table that Matt had brought over for her to become acquainted with so she would have something more in common with Joe. 'All that studying for nothing,' she thought, positive she shouldn't bring it up to Joe now. 


	7. Chapter 7

Stalked Chapter Seven by hbwgonnabe

Joe caught up with Frank as Lacey was rounding the corner out of sight. The police officer was still at the hallway's end, looking at Frank and scowling.

"Pissed him off again, did you?" Joe asked, grinning at his brother.

"I think, maybe, he likes Lacey," Frank replied.

"Possible suspect?" Joe inquired, quirking an eyebrow at his brother.

Frank shook his head. "I really doubt it. He seems to genuinely like Dr. Reynolds as well. And before you ask, no, Reynolds doesn't have any known enemies," he continued. "But she did say that Reynolds was supposed to meet someone from the Bayport PD today. The officer was going to help out with the video they are filming."

"Who was the officer?" inquired Joe. "Maybe he can tell us something."

"Lacey had no idea," Frank answered, shaking his head and frowning. "But the appointment was only made today and was scheduled for two this afternoon."

"Did she make the appointment?" inquired Joe.

Frank shook his head. "He said the witness saw Reynolds being abducted shortly before two," he said, nodding in the officer's direction. "Reynolds must have been taken on his way to meet with the officer."

"Then we need to call Chief Collig and find out who Reynolds' liaison was and if he saw anything," Joe said.

"We'll swing by the station next," Frank concurred with Joe's suggestion. "Let's go."

Half an hour later, Frank pulled to a stop in front of the police station. "We need to see Chief Collig," Frank requested as he and Joe stepped up to the front desk.

"Why am I not surprised?" demanded the sergeant on duty wearing a big, friendly grin on his weathered face. "Go on up," he instructed them.

The boys hurried up the short flight of steps leading to the inner workings of the Bayport Police Department and made their way through the maze of cubicles and desks to the back of the room where the chief's office was located. "More problems?" tall and graying Chief Ezra Collig asked the two youths as they came to a standstill in front of the open door of his small office.

"Afraid so," acknowledged Frank. "It has to do with Dr. Craig Reynolds' kidnapping," he explained. 

"I think you should really concentrate on your stalker and let us handle Reynolds' abduction," Collig stated, his lips turning down just a fraction at the corners.

"We believe they are connected," Joe put in.

Collig leaned back in his chair with a weary sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Come on in and have a seat," he invited the two boys grudgingly. "But leave the door open. The blasted air conditioning is on the fritz again."

Frank filled the chief in on his and Joe's previous meeting with Reynolds and gave him the description of the vehicle the witness had seen Reynolds being forced into. "What we need to know is who was supposed to be helping Reynolds with his project?" Frank inquired. "We would like to talk to that officer."

"I don't know," admitted the chief, frowning. "This is the first I have heard of it. I will find out and get back to you, though," he promised.

The teens thanked the chief for his assistance and left. "Where to now?" Joe asked once they were back in the van.

"Home," Frank answered at once. "Mom will be wondering where we are." He didn't add that he thought Joe had done enough since being released from the hospital.

Phil Cohen, Frank's closest friend since third grade, was waiting at the Hardy household when they arrived. A tall, slender boy with sharp hazel eyes hidden beneath wire frames (he kept losing his contacts), was deceptively geeky. Although very intelligent and creative, he was also a good fighter, which he had, on various occasions, proven to enemies of the Hardys.

"What are you doing here?" asked Frank, getting out of the van and hurrying up the walk to meet his friend.

"You know the robot I built for the science club last spring?" Phil asked, his eyes shining behind his lenses.

"The one that detects fires then rolls through the house with an alarm and at the same time alerting the fire department through a remote?" inquired Frank.

"That's the one," acknowledged Phil. "Citizone Animatronics wants a demonstration tomorrow. I was hoping you could come over this evening and help me to get it ready to go?" he asked. "Mom said to invite you to dinner as well."

"Of course, I'll help," Frank agreed at once. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked, turning to look at Joe.

"No way," Joe assured him at once, not in the least upset that he hadn't been invited to help as well. "Just keep Frank in your sights, huh?" he begged Phil.

"Don't worry," Phil assured Joe. "I'll even make sure he gets in the house when I bring him back. Any leads on who the creep is that's after you?" he asked, turning to look at Frank again.

"Not yet," Frank admitted with a grimace. "I'll bring you up to date on the way to your place," he promised.

"I'll tell mom where you've gone," Joe told him before heading inside.

"Where's Frank?" Laura asked, seeing Joe enter the house by himself. Joe told her about Phil and then asked if she would mind if he went to Camille's.

"Of course not, dear," Laura answered. "As a matter of fact, since both you and your brother are going to be out tonight, I think I will have your father take me out."

"What's this?" asked Fenton, entering the kitchen from the dining room in time to hear Laura's last few words.

"Frank is at Phil's and Joe is going to Camille's so I thought we could go out for dinner tonight," Laura said, looking at her husband with a pleading twinkle in her eyes.

"An excellent idea," Fenton agreed with the suggestion, smiling with loving tenderness at his wife before turning to look at his youngest son. "But don't stay out too long," he warned Joe. "It's a school night."

"Frank, buddy, I think we're being followed," Phil said as they neared his house.

"What kind of vehicle?" Frank asked, checking his side mirror.

"Dark blue Element," Phil answered. "It's too far back to see the driver but they have been behind us since we left your street."

"Let's turn the tables," Frank suggested. It wasn't the same type of vehicle as his stalker had been driving but then the person could have access to more than the one car. Too, after being used to abduct Reynolds, the forerunner had probably been abandoned by now.

Phil made a right turn. The blue car followed. He sped up and made another right turn a mile down the road. The Element picked up speed and followed suit. By now, the other car was no longer hanging in the background; it was trying to catch up to them. Several more miles and a few turns later, Phil and Frank were directly behind the car that had been following them. 

Frank leaned over and hit the horn, startling the person in front of them. Seconds later, both vehicles pulled to the side of the road. Frank leapt out and ran to the driver's door of the Element. His eyes bulged in surprise when he saw the driver. 


	8. Chapter 8

Stalked Chapter Eight by hbwgonnabe "Joe?" Camille gasped in delighted surprise when she opened her front door. "What are you doing here? I thought you were watching Frank," she said, her surprise turning to confusion.

"Phil has taken over for the evening," Joe informed her. "I know I said I couldn't make it, so if you want, I can go back home and we can set a date for another night?"

"Absolutely not," Camille stated firmly, taking his hand and pulling him inside. "I get to see you so little as is. Not nearly as much as one would expect to see her boyfriend." She paused and gave a little laugh. "Although, I daresay, not many girls have full-fledged detectives for boyfriends."

Joe grinned at her, pleased she had accepted his lifestyle so easily. Even Vanessa had had problems with his impromptu schedule at times. "We're just having spaghetti so one more person won't matter at all," Camille continued. "I was just getting ready to put it on. Would you like to wait in the living room or come into the kitchen and help?"

"I'll help," Joe agreed at once with her latter suggestion. He followed the luscious redhead through the house and into the kitchen , completely unaware the Lanes had a special guest who slipped outside quietly after they left the foyer.

"Dad, Joe's joining us for dinner after all," Camille told her father who was sitting at the kitchen table with half of a cup of coffee before him.

"Good," Judge Lane said, welcoming Joe with a smile.

"I hope you don't mind," Joe said. The misunderstanding he and Judge Lane had had when they first met was long gone but Joe was becoming attached to Camille and didn't want to risk antagonizing him again.

"Not at all," the judge replied. "But, I'm afraid, I won't be staying," he added with an apologetic look at his daughter. "I was just thinking about one of the cases on my docket and realized I need to see the DA."

"This late?" Joe asked curiously.

"It concerns the case I'm currently trying," Judge Lane explained. "And I don't want to have to delay the proceedings again."

"Problems?" Joe queried.

"One of the officers forgot he was scheduled for court this afternoon," Lane informed Joe with a frown. "An officer by the name of O'Neil. Anyway, he was almost an hour late in arriving and that was only one of the delays we have had so far in this trial."

"Try not to be too late," Camille instructed her father as he arose from his chair.

"I'll try," he promised, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving via the back door.

Joe laughed. "It's weird how things work out," he said. "Last month who would ever have believed your dad would let me in the house let alone leave us together without a chaperone?"

"Don't be silly," Camille reprimanded him. "That was just a stupid misunderstanding before Dad even knew who you were." She opened a cabinet and removed a pot.

"How can I help?" inquired Joe.

Camille removed a bread pan from the cabinet and handed it to Joe. "Take this," she said. "The French bread is on the counter. If you will slice it, I'll make some garlic butter to put on it."

"Sure thing," Joe agreed, setting the pan on the counter and reaching for the French bread. "Where are the knives?"

"Second drawer on your right," she answered.

As the two prepared their meal, Joe told Camille about the case he and Frank were currently working on, going into more detail than he had on the phone earlier. "If this Dr. Reynolds was kidnapped because he was helping you, then Frank's stalker must be following him," Camille reasoned. "How else would he have known?"

"But we've been watching," Joe said, scowling. "And we haven't spotted anyone tailing us."

"Then someone you have told about Dr. Reynolds is either the stalker or has let it slip to the stalker," Camille asserted. "There's no other logical explanation for Reynolds' abduction if it is related like you believe."

Joe smiled and gave her a look of admiration. "You are really smart," he said. "What do you see in me?"

"What?" Camille gasped with a look of utter disbelief on her face. "What kind of question is that?"

Joe shrugged and blushed. "I'm not all that bright," he confessed. "Frank is really smart and all, but he's my brother and is pretty much stuck with having me around."

"That's the biggest load of baloney anyone has ever tried to feed me," Camille told him angrily. "Why do you have such a low opinion of yourself? You aren't stupid. Okay, you're no rocket scientist but then, how many people are?"

"Camille..." Joe tried to interrupt her at this point but she wasn't finished.

"I'm in two of your classes, remember?" she demanded and waited until Joe nodded before continuing. "And you are far from the class idiot in either of them. You're a great detective," she added. "How could you do what you do if you weren't smart?"

"Frank is..." Joe started but never got a chance to continue.

"Not always by your side," Camille took over his words. "You're every bit as smart as he is, just in a different way."

"I admit, I'm no dummy," Joe agreed, trying to conceal his pleasure at her defense of him. "I just meant that with brains like yours why settle for average? You could..."

Joe broke off in shock. Had she just slapped him? Oh yeah, he realized, his face was burning from the impact.

"Stop it right now," she hissed. "You are not average. You are a very, very special person who is not only kind but also athletic, great looking and, yes, intelligent!" she snapped. "And I will take out anyone, including you, who says otherwise."

Joe grinned and pulled her close to him. "How did I get so lucky?" he whispered, staring into her eyes briefly before capturing her lips with his own. 


	9. Chapter 9

Stalked Chapter Nine by hbwgonnabe

"Tony!" Frank greeted the driver in surprise. "You were following us? Why?"

"I was on my way to your place to show you my new car," Tony explained. "But I saw you leaving with Phil and thought I could catch up with you at his place." Tony stopped speaking and scowled. "But then you speeded up and headed off in a different direction so I decided to follow you in case you needed some help."

"We thought you might be my stalker," Frank told him ruefully.

"Nice car," Phil told Tony, stepping up beside Frank at the driver's window.

"Two years of saving, but she's all mine," Tony said with satisfaction, opening the door as the other boys stepped back. He got out of the car and looked appreciatively at his new wheels.

"You paid cash?" Phil demanded in surprise. "For a new car?" Tony nodded. "Your dad helped, right?"

"No," Tony denied with a shake of his head. "I've just been saving almost every dime I earned," he explained, grinning.

"That's great," Frank told him, clapping him on the back.

"Any leads on your stalker?" Tony asked, turning the conversation back to Frank's problem.

"Why don't you come on over to my place and Frank can fill you in when we get there?" suggested Phil.

"Sure," Tony agreed. "Just one question, though: Where's Joe?"

"He went to Camille's," said Frank.

"Oh." The single word, spoken so softly that Frank almost never heard it carried a connotation that immediately put Frank on edge.

"What?" demanded Frank, his sharp brown eyes narrowing speculatively on his friend.

"Nothing," Tony said, giving him and Phil a lame smile that let them know it was anything but. "I'll follow you guys."

"Not until you tell me what you meant," Frank said. "What's wrong? Has it something to do with Camille?"

"Look, I didn't mean to say anything," Tony started but Frank interrupted him in a clipped voice.

"If it is something to do with Camille then you have to tell me," Frank demanded. "Joe's my brother and if you know something that affects him you have to tell me."

"I don't think she's the right girl for Joe," Tony confessed.

"Why?" Phil asked in surprise. 

"She's not as nice as she lets people think she is," Tony answered.

"She lets people think she's nice?" Phil asked dubiously. In his opinion, Camille was very outspoken and he felt most people were afraid she would say something embarrassing or hurtful and so shied away from her.

"Once you get to know her," Tony amended. "After Joe started dating her we gave her a chance and, you have to admit, she comes off as a very sweet girl, albeit, opinionated."

"True," acknowledged Frank. He had thought the same thing. 

"But when I went to get my insurance for my new car she was at the hair salon next door. She was yelling at someone," Tony continued.

"Girls get upset if their hair isn't exactly right," Phil said with a shrug. "I know my mom sure does."

"Even Joe gets upset when he is having a bad hair day," Frank put in, aware it wasn't just a female thing.

"But the woman she was screaming at was apologizing for the inconvenience," Tony said, shaking his head. "It was over the appointment, not her hair."

"Maybe she was having a bad day," Frank suggested, frowning.

"Could be," Tony concurred with a shrug. "But she just doesn't seem like the type of girl Joe normally gets into. Iola and Vanessa were different but they were both really sweet and thoughtful and would have helped out anyone. I can't imagine either of them behaving the way Camille did."

"We don't really know Camille all that well," admitted Frank. "I just assumed that since she was Judge Lane's daughter that she was okay."

"Just because she isn't nice doesn't mean she isn't okay," Phil pointed out. "Are you going to tell Joe?"

Frank thought it over. "No," he said finally. "If she isn't nice, he will figure it out on his own. If I, or anyone, say anything without proof then he will take it personally and get mad."

"And spend even more time with her," Tony guessed. Frank nodded. "Okay, we keep quite about Camille. Now, how about we head to Phil's and get off the street?"

Joe arrived home almost an hour after Frank. "How was your night?" Frank asked Joe, going into his room and sitting down on the bed.

"Great," Joe replied, smiling as he pulled open a drawer and reached for his jammies. "I told Camille about the case and she raised a point we haven't considered." Joe went on to tell Frank about her idea that the stalker had to be someone they had spoken with recently, unless someone they had talked to had mentioned Reynolds to the stalker.

"Not bad," Frank approved of her theory. "Because we know we haven't been followed. Let's make a list," he said, going to Joe's desk and sitting down. He took a piece of paper and a pencil then looked over at Joe. "Who all did you talk to about the case?" he asked. "Long time friend or not," he clarified.

"Camille, Riley, O'Neil, the chief, you, mom and dad," Joe answered. "There aren't all that many people to talk to in the hospital," he pointed out. "What about you?"

"Phil, Chet, Tony, Callie, Liz, and Biff," Frank answered, jotting their names down. "We discussed the case at lunch today."

"What about Karen and Helen?" Joe asked, naming Biff's and Chet's girlfriends who normally sat with them at lunch.

"Helen was absent and Liz skipped lunch," Frank informed his brother. He looked at the names he had written down. "None of these could be our stalker," he said, frustrated. "We've known everyone except for Camille and Officer O'Neil for ages. And Camille likes you , not me, and O'Neil was on duty when Reynolds was snatched."

"Dr. Reynolds did say the stalker was probably someone we have known awhile," Joe reminded Frank.

"Yeah, I know," Frank said in a deadpan voice. "The sad truth is that one of our closest friends has decided to reveal themselves as the psycho they are. Get real!" he demanded. 

"So, maybe it is someone following you but only some of the time," Joe suggested, his lips turning down a bit as his brain screamed at him to remember something that he couldn't recall.

"I feel like we are going around in circles," Frank said wearily.

"Has Chief Collig called yet?" Joe asked.

"Yes," answered Frank. "Dr. Reynolds never had a liaison with anyone on the force. Whoever he was supposed to have met was not a cop."

"Looks like we need to talk to Lacey again," Joe said. "And we still have to go to Stoney's Gym." Frank nodded. "Anything else?" Joe asked, seeing the look on Frank's face that told him his brother had something on his mind.

"I was just wondering how things are going between you and Camille?" Frank asked a bit too casually.

Joe's blue eyes lit up and he broke into a huge grin, the kind that transformed his face into a heart. "Great!" he said, falling down onto his bed and looking up at the ceiling as he put his hands behind his head. "She's awesome! Honestly, I never thought I would meet anyone that I like better than Vanessa but I have!"

"Better than Vanessa?" Frank gasped in surprise. "But..but you've only known Camille for a month!"

"What do I need to know?" retorted Joe, still grinning broadly. "She's wonderful! She really likes me and we have a lot in common. But not too much. We're different enough so that I doubt we could ever grow bored with each other. And her dad is a judge so mom and dad have no qualms about her. She's..." he broke off, searching for the right word. "She's perfect! Matter of fact, I can easily see us spending the rest of our lives together." 


	10. Chapter 10

Stalked Chapter Ten by hbwgonnabe

"Whoa! Slow down!" Frank commanded his enthusiastic younger brother. "What exactly are you saying?"

"What do you think I'm saying?" Joe countered. 

"You're too young to get married," stated Frank bluntly. 

"I know," Joe agreed at once. Not hearing Frank's sigh of relief, he continued. "But, yeah, in the future, that is a definite maybe. But not until after high school. Geez! What do you take me for a complete moron?" he ended, looking at Frank with a hurt expression.

"Of course not," Frank brushed the idea aside. "But love can make people do some pretty stupid things," he reminded him.

"Relax," Joe told him, grinning. "I promise that when I do decide to get married, I will let you know first so it won't blow you away."

"Thanks," Frank said, hoping Joe would find out about Camille's dark side before he fell any harder for her.

"Besides," Joe added, grinning wickedly. "I can't have you blurting out something stupid when Camille and I do announce our engagement."

"Joe.." Frank began warningly.

"Easy, bro," Joe calmed Frank once more before he could get all riled up again. "Way in the future."

Frank went to his room a few minutes later. He hoped Tony had misunderstood the affair between Camille and the stylist or else Joe was headed for heartache. True, some of their friends did fly off the handle occasionally without proper provocation. But Joe was the sort of person who couldn't be cruel or unkind if his life depended on it. Frank knew Joe could never be happy with anyone who was.

There was only one thing he could think to do: have Camille spend more time not with just Joe, but with him and their friends as well. Eventually, Camille's true nature would have to come out be it good or bad. That decided, Frank went to bed.

"Joe, we're going to be late," complained Frank when he entered Joe's bedroom a little before eight the next morning.

"I know," Joe replied, scowling. "But I can't find my chemistry book."

"Are you sure you brought it home?" Frank asked him, looking at Joe's desk for any sign of the missing book. 

"Yes, I'm sure," Joe acknowledged. "We had homework in it over the weekend so I brought it home and forgot to take it back on Monday. If I'm without it again today Mrs. Bumgarner will skin me."

Frank knelt down and reached for Joe's spread to lift it up and look under the bed. "Already checked there," Joe stopped him. "And on and under the desk, behind the trash, in the closet, even in the kitchen and living room. It's nowhere."

"Maybe it's in the van," Frank suggested, frowning. "Or maybe you left it in my room and the stalker took it."

"Possible," Joe acknowledged slowly. He was ready to accept any possible idea on the book's location. He had even looked in his father's office and the bathroom as well as a few other places he hadn't mentioned but still hadn't been able to locate the missing item. 

"Joe, those pajamas you were going to loan me but said were probably dirty... did mom ever them up?" Frank asked.

"Mom just took the laundry down this morning," Joe replied, looking at Frank curiously. "Why?'

"No reason," Frank said, smiling. "Just curious. But we do have to go," he continued, changing the subject. "You will just have to be in hot water with Bumgarner if it isn't in the van. Let's go."

Joe set his lunch tray down on the table next to Camille's and sat down with a heavy sigh. "What's wrong?" asked Biff, looking across the table at his friend.

"Bumgarner gave me extra work for not having my book," Joe answered with a scowl. "I've looked everywhere. I'm going to have to swing by the office after school and see about getting a new one." 

"Just what you needed on top of having to look for that creep who is after Frank," Chet said, frowning. "Isn't there anything we can do to help?" he asked.

"Not now," Frank said, arriving at the table without a lunch tray. He sat down between Joe and Callie. "But we do have a lead."

"We do?" Joe asked in surprise. So far they hadn't been able to get over to Stoney's Gym and as far as he knew, everything else had been a bust.

Frank nodded. "I just got off of the phone with Lacey. The cop that Reynolds was supposed to meet was O'Neil," Frank informed everyone.

"But he was on duty yesterday," Joe said. "He couldn't have..." 

"What?" Frank demanded when Joe broke off.

"Judge Lane said the proceedings were held up in a case he's trying because O'Neil forgot he was supposed to be there," Joe informed him.

"What time?" asked Frank.

"Two."

"Did O'Neil mention having to meet with Reynolds when he visited you at the hospital?" Frank asked.

"He didn't even know about him until I mentioned him," Joe said, frowning. 

"I think we should talk to Officer O'Neil," Frank said. "I'll call Chief Collig and have him set it up at the precinct for after school," he added, standing up.

Frank left the table and raced to the payphone, reaching it just before the freshman he had seen heading toward it. He placed the call, spoke for a few moments and then returned to the lunch table, his expression preoccupied.

"Well?" Joe asked curiously.

"O'Neil never reported in for work today," Frank informed Joe and the others. "The Chief sent someone to his place but he wasn't at home."

"Kidnapped?" asked Phil.

Frank's mouth was set in a grim line as his brown eyes met his brother's blue ones. "O'Neil wasn't there but his blue forerunner was." 


	11. Chapter 11

Stalked Chapter Eleven by hbwgonnabe

"So O'Neil is your stalker," Joe said, frowning thoughtfully. "It kind of makes sense. I mean, we have known him for awhile. He transferred from Miami almost two years ago."

"But why go after Frank?" Callie demanded.

"Chief Collig is running a check on him," Frank said with a shrug. "There may be something in his background that would help us understand."

"Didn't they check him out when he was hired?" Camille asked in surprise.

"I doubt it," Frank answered. "He was already a cop, he just transferred."

Joe sighed. "And I told him about Reynolds," he said. "I hope O'Neil didn't hurt him."

Camille grasped his upper arm. "I'm sure he is," she said. "Since Reynolds is an expert, O'Neil will probably keep him to obtain tips on how not to get caught."

"Oh yeah," Joe agreed sarcastically. "That's why he has disappeared. That really won't draw suspicion." Camille released him and her face fell at the unwarranted attack. "I'm sorry," Joe apologized, at once contrite. He snagged her hand and raised it to his lips for a brief kiss. "I'm just worried."

"About Frank," Phil put in, nodding. "We are too."

"But we won't let him out of our sight for a second," Tony promised.

"We need to check out O'Neil's place," Joe said.

"As soon as school's over," Frank concurred.

"One more period to go," Frank said, falling into the chair next to Phil's.

"In a hurry?" Phil teased him.

"Yes," Frank admitted, running a hand through his hair worriedly. "There's something bothering me about this case."

"What?" Phil asked. "The fact that it's a cop behind this?"

"No," Frank denied with a shake of his head. "We've dealt with crooked cops before."

"Then what?" asked Phil.

"I don't know," Frank said, scowling. "I just feel that there's something I'm missing."

"Attention!" The principal's voice through the PA system interrupted the boys' conversation. "There will be an assembly in the gymnasium at this time. Everyone please proceed to the gym in an orderly fashion."

When Frank and Phil entered the gym Chet, Tony, Biff, Callie, Camille, Karen and Helen immediately surrounded them. "Where's Joe?" asked Frank, not seeing him.

"He got called to the office at the end of last period," Helen informed him. "He should be along soon."

"Why was he called to the office?" Frank wondered aloud.

"A phone call," Helen answered.

Frank frowned. "Then he should be here," he said. "And who called him anyway?" Frank turned away from the growing crowd before him. "I'm going to the office," he said. "If Joe shows up, keep him here."

"We're going with you," Biff and Phil chimed in. Joe would kill them if they left Frank alone until O'Neil was captured.

"Fine," Frank agreed. He was in too much of a hurry to argue or explain what had just occurred to him.

They reached the principal's office in less than five minutes. Not seeing Joe about, Frank stepped up to the desk. "When did Joe leave?" he asked the school's secretary.

"He never," was the answer.

"But didn't he get a call?" asked Frank, his forehead furrowing.

"He did," Mrs. Anderson acknowledged. "It was from Chief Collig. But Joe never did come to answer and when I went to tell the Chief he wasn't available, he had already hung up."

"May I use the phone?" Frank asked, his face paling.

"Of course," Mrs. Anderson said, setting the phone over so Frank could reach it.

"Why didn't Joe come to the office?" Biff asked.

"He did," Frank said, dialing the police department. "I'm betting the call was from O'Neil and he hijacked Joe after he left his last class."

"Which is in the back of the next building," Phil said. "But why take Joe when he's after you?" he asked, perplexed.

"Phil's right," Biff agreed. "Joe probably is in the gym right now."

Frank held up his hand for silence when Chief Collig came on the phone. "Chief, this is Frank Hardy," he announced. "Did you call Joe a little while ago?"

"No," Collig answered. "Why?" Frank repeated what the secretary had told him. "Blast it!" Collig snarled. "Where are you?"

"In the office," answered Frank.

"Stay there," Collig ordered. "I'm on my way over."

"Chief!" Frank shouted before Collig could hang up. "You don't seem surprised."

"We went over O'Neil's place with a fine toothcomb," he informed Frank. "We found a stash of pictures under a floorboard under his bed. They were all of Joe spanning the past two years." 


	12. Chapter 12

Stalked Chapter Twelve by hbwgonnabe

Biff went to the gym to update everyone while Phil waited with Frank in the office. "How did you know?" inquired Phil.

"It was too obvious," Frank said. "All my stuff was bothered but only bits and pieces of Joe's. Shoot! He may not even know what all is missing. But first, there was the pajamas that he couldn't find. Then his chemistry book. He looked everywhere for it. And the pictures!" Frank continued. "There was only half a roll of pictures of me in the van. What about the other half? And why let me know I'm being stalked in the first place?" he demanded. "What reason could O'Neil have had for it?"

"I'll bite," Phil said. "What was his reason?"

"To draw attention away from his real victim: Joe," Frank answered. "If everyone is concentrating on me then Joe's unprotected. He's an easy target."

Joe groaned and opened his eyes. 'What hit me?' he wondered, shutting them again as a thousand rockets went off in his head. 'Oh, yeah, O'Neil!' Joe remembered. He had been asked to go to the office to accept a call from Chief Collig near the end of class. He thought it odd but decided the chief must have found out something and hadn't wanted Frank wandering the halls of Bayport High alone.

He had left his class, which was located in the basement of the R.O.T.C. building, and passed by the alley between the buildings but that had been as far as he had gotten. A footfall had alerted him that he wasn't outside alone and he had turned, expecting to see Ike or one of the other school bullies cutting class. Instead, he had seen O'Neil's face a fraction of a second before he felt O'Neil's fist.

"Wake up, Joe," O'Neil interrupted Joe's musings, stooping down in front of the youth he had handcuffed to a chair. 

Joe opened his eyes again and grimaced when he saw the smiling face of his captor. "Feeling okay?" O'Neil asked, genuine concern in his eyes. "I'm sorry I had to clock you so hard but I couldn't take a chance on your attracting any attention."

"Why?" Joe asked. Then winced because his jaw was killing him where O'Neil's fist had made contact. "Why did you grab me? It won't make Frank come to you. Dad, nor our friends, would let him."

"Silly, I don't want Frank. I never did," O'Neil informed Joe, pushing a lock of hair from Joe's forehead. "But with everyone thinking I was after Frank, you were left alone."

"You wanted me?" Joe asked in shock. "But Frank's stuff..."

"A cover," O'Neil explained. "I bet you never noticed I took some of your things," he added, waving a hand at the bed. Joe looked over and saw some of his comics, his pajamas and his missing chemistry book. There were shoes, pictures, and even some of his smaller trophies lying about. He had worried so much about Frank that the fact that some of his stuff might be missing had never even crossed his mind!

"Why?" Joe asked again. "Why do you want me?"

"You remind me of my little brother," O'Neil confessed. "Not in looks, but in every other way you couldn't be more alike."

"Won't he be jealous if you give me all of your attention?" Joe asked hopefully.

"Mickey died two years ago," O'Neil informed Joe in a thick voice. "I wasn't there to save him. I tried," he continued in a raspy voice. "Lord knows I tried to watch out for him. I was always there to get him out of whatever mess he had gotten into but the last time..."

He broke off and remained silent while he tried to compose himself. Joe kept quite, not wanting to interrupt O'Neil before he had finished. Soon, O'Neil began again. "I was shot in the line of duty," O'Neil told Joe. "It wasn't too serious but I was forced to stay in the hospital overnight. Mickey wanted to stay with me but he had school the next morning so I sent him home. The next day when I got home, Mickey was lying on the living room floor with a bullet through his head."

"It wasn't your fault," Joe told him. "You weren't there."

"It was!" O'Neil shouted at him. "Mickey was my responsibility. Even before our folks passed away, I took care of Mickey. But I let him down. I let him get killed."

O'Neil looked Joe squarely in the eyes. "You and Frank, you're just like Mickey and me. But Frank's too young. He doesn't realize what can happen. I do. I like Frank. He's a good kid and doesn't deserve to feel the kind of pain I've felt by letting his little brother down. 

"You're a good kid too," O'Neil continued. "And I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I won't let you, or Frank, down like I let Mickey. I'm going to take care of you. Nothing's going to happen to you because no one will be able to find you."

"Don't you think someone will figure out that you're the one who kidnapped me?" Joe asked.

"They already know," O'Neil admitted. "I was starting to dispose of Reynolds when he made me see that his disappearance would lead to me through you. After all, you are the one who told me about him."

"You killed him?" Joe gasped, his eyes widening in horror.

"No," O'Neil answered. "He's tied up out back. I intend to leave him here when we depart. Being hunted for murder is a bit worse, and more intense, than being sought after for kidnapping."

"When are we leaving?" Joe asked, hoping it wouldn't be soon.

"Now," O'Neil answered. 


	13. Chapter 13

Stalked Chapter Thirteen by hbwgonnabe

"We have a problem!" Camille declared, entering her house and slamming the door behind her.

"Indeed?" inquired Matt, stepping into the foyer just ahead of Judge Lane.

"Some cop has absconded with Joe," Camille informed the head of the Assassins and her dad. "Frank went to the police station with his father just before school let out."

"Do you have a name?" Lane asked his daughter.

"It's that O'Neil you were telling Joe about last night," Camille informed him.

"If O'Neil does have Joe, and the police can't find him, then our entire plan is ruined," Judge Lane stated grimly.

"Not if we find O'Neil," Matt said calmly. "Some hick cop is not going to prevent my brother from becoming an Assassin." Matt looked at Camille. "Offer to help in any way you can," he instructed her. "I'll see to it that Officer O'Neil is found along with Joe."

"I hope so," Camille said. "But he is a cop. He will know how to cover his tracks."

Matt smiled at Camille's naivety. "I always get what I want," he told her in a deceptively gentle voice. "Don't ever doubt that."

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Sergeant Riley asked, entering the chief's office in blue denim shorts and a pale gray shirt. It was the first of Con's four days off and he had been outside mowing the yard when his pager had gone off.

"You know O'Neil as well as anyone on the force?" Collig asked him, getting straight to the point.

"Yes, Sir," Con acknowledged, his forehead breaking out in worry lines as he looked at the troubled faces of Frank and Fenton. "Where's Joe?" he asked, feeling a brick of lead settle in his stomach.

"O'Neil has him," Frank answered. "He grabbed Joe at school this afternoon."

"But...why?" Con asked, completely confused at the turn of events.

"We don't know," Collig said. "His kid brother was murdered shortly before he transferred here but that's the only thing showing that could be a warning sign."

"Did O'Neil ever talk about Joe or Frank?" Fenton asked Con.

"Only casually," Con replied. "When he first started here, he asked who they were because they always tried to get involved with whatever was going on. And once, I remember, he commented on how close they were and how sad it would be for them as they grew older. I thought he meant because they would be growing apart as they made their own futures."

Frank snorted. Even after he was married and had kids of his own, Joe would still be as important to him as he was now. Con shot Frank an apologetic look.

"Do you know what O'Neil did on his days off?" Collig asked Con.

"He volunteered at the youth center," Con answered. "And he liked to go backpacking."

"Anywhere specific?" Collig snapped the question.

Con frowned. "He used to go to the North Woods a lot but about six months ago, he quit. He started going to the woods west of Southport."

"I'll alert Chief Raymond," Collig said, naming Southport's newly appointed chief of police. "He can get some men and search the woods there. I will organize a search party for the North Woods."

"You think he could be hiding Joe somewhere in the woods?" Con asked, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully.

"He doesn't have him at his place," the chief answered. "And wherever he has Joe, it's a safe bet that he will know the area thoroughly."

"Maybe we should start the search south of the falls," Con suggested. "That was where he was headed the last time he went into the North Woods. If he has been planning this for awhile, he probably found a place and decided not to return there, at least and let anyone know about it, just in case someone caught on."

"Good idea," Fenton congratulated Con. Collig nodded his approval. "When do we leave?" Fenton continued, turning to look at Collig.

"As soon as we get a few more men and supplies," Collig replied. "It will be dark in a few hours but if we use night-vision goggles we can take O'Neil by surprise if he is there."

"I see something," Officer Brandon's voice came softly through the talkie on Chief Collig's shoulder. "A cabin ahead," Brandon continued. "There's someone lying on the ground, tied up."

"Move in quietly," Collig ordered. "Everyone."

Con turned to Frank who was accompanying him while Fenton stayed next to the chief several yards away. "Let's go," he told Frank in a hushed voice.

"There's no movement in front," Frank observed quietly.

They reached the cabin and cautiously edged up to the window. There was no sound from within so Con and Frank peered inside. "The cabin looks deserted, Sir," Con spoke into his talkie.

"Copy that," Collig answered. "Move in but be careful of destroying evidence," he cautioned. "And send Frank around back." Con relayed the chief's orders and proceeded into the cabin via the unlocked front door.

"Dr. Reynolds!" Frank exclaimed when he reached his dad and Chief Collig who were helping the man who had been tied up to his feet at the back of the cabin. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," Reynolds declared grimly. He looked at Frank with a frown on his face as he rubbed his sore wrists were the rope had cut into his flesh. "They left hours ago," he declared. "O'Neil was determined to get Joe as far away from Bayport as fast as he could."

"Do you know why he wants my son?" Fenton inquired.

"He wants to isolate him from the world," Reynolds informed the men. "He has transferred his feelings for his brother onto Joe."

"He feels responsible for his brother's murder," Fenton said, nodding his understanding. 

"You said 'isolate him'," Frank said, his brow furrowing. "How? Where?"

"I don't know," Reynolds admitted. "I just know that much from his ramblings while he was hauling me out here. But I can tell you one thing about him," he continued. "He has planned Joe's abduction for some time. Finding them won't be easy." 


	14. Chapter 14

Stalked Chapter Fourteen by hbwgonnabe

"Where are we going?" Joe asked from the back of the van where he was secured to the tire well.

"Our first destination is in Texas," O'Neil informed Joe cheerily.

"Texas?" Joe gasped. "First destination?" he repeated. "Aren't we going to take a break somewhere along the way? We've been traveling non-stop all night."

"Only for gas," O'Neil answered.

"But I need to go to the bathroom," Joe complained.

"You will just have to hold it for awhile," O'Neil told him. 

"My bladder doesn't want to," Joe retorted. "And right now, it's very adamant."

"Then go on yourself," O'Neil instructed, his mood staying sickeningly optimistic. "I'm not taking any chances. We are not going to be seen until we reach Texas and then only I will be seen."

"Works for me," Joe said. "Every cop in the country will be looking for you."

"For O'Neil, maybe," he agreed. "But before we get there I am going to change. Matter of fact, there is a good place to do just that up ahead," he added, seeing a dirt road ahead of them. Yes, he had been smart to avoid the interstate for the first leg of the trip. But once he had his disguise in place he would change tags on the van and they would ditch it as soon as an opportunity arose.

"Since we're stopping anyway, how about letting me visit a tree?" Joe pleaded. All he needed was the chance to make a break for it. He didn't think O'Neil would kill him but, as evidenced by the powerful blow he had delivered the previous afternoon, O'Neil would go to extreme lengths to keep him.

"Sorry, Joe," O'Neil said, shaking his head as he brought the van to a stop behind a massive extent of bushes. "I can't trust you not to try and get away."

"Do you blame me?" Joe countered bitterly.

"Not at all," O'Neil answered, turning to look at the youth with sympathetic eyes. "But this is for your own good. If you had kept going the way you were you would surely be dead before you turn eighteen. I am not going to let that happen."

"It's my life!" Joe snapped. "You have no right to control it!"

"Someone has to," O'Neil retorted. "Or you won't have one left to control."

Joe began mumbling angrily and O'Neil smiled and climbed in the back. Sitting down next to Joe, he pulled a box close to him and opened it up. First, he removed some clothes that Joe guessed he had picked up at a thrift shop and then he pulled out a small box that Joe recognized at once. It was a professional make-up artist's kit like the one his father possessed and used when he went undercover. Joe groaned. He could feel his chances of rescue slipping away as the seconds ticked by.

"Hello, Mrs. Hardy, this is Camille," Camille's voice came over the phone early the next morning. "Have they found Joe yet?"

"No," Laura answered in a weary voice. "They found the cabin where O'Neil took him to begin with but they weren't able to find any leads as to where he was taking him next."

"Would you like to come stay with Dad and me until they find Joe?" offered Camille kindly. "I know Frank and Mr. Hardy will be spending all of their time trying to find him and you really shouldn't be alone now. Joe wouldn't want that."

"You're right," Laura agreed, smiling at the girl's thoughtfulness. "But I need to stay home in case Joe manages to escape and calls. Would you mind terribly coming over here after school and staying awhile?" she asked the girl. "I would like to get to know you better."

"Of course," Camille agreed at once. That was exactly what she had been hoping Mrs. Hardy would request. She needed to win Joe's family's trust if she wanted Joe to fall in love with her. "I would like that as well."

"Who was on the phone?" inquired Fenton, entering the living room with Frank as Laura hung up the phone.

"Camille," Laura informed him. "She is coming over after school."

"That's good," approved Fenton.

"Mom, about Camille," Frank said, approaching the subject hesitantly. "I've heard rumors that she isn't really as nice as she appears."

"Frank Andrew Hardy!" Laura snapped, frowning in disappointment. "You know better than to listen to rumors."

"I know, I know," agreed Frank quickly, holding up his hands defensively. "But a friend of ours said he heard Camille dressing down some girl at a hair salon even though the girl was apologizing. I just think we should get to know her a little better before Joe gets too serious about her."

"She's Judge Lane's daughter," Fenton reminded Frank.

"Just because she is not a thief or murderer doesn't mean she is a nice person," Frank pointed out. "You know how sensitive Joe is. He needs someone nice."

"Yes, he does," Laura greed. "But it isn't up to us to choose his girlfriend for him. However, I did invite her over so I could get to know her better. I don't want him to get hurt either," she added, grinning, before planting her hands on her hips and turning to look her husband in the eyes. "Now, then. How are you going to find my son?" 


	15. Chapter 15

Stalked Chapter Fifteen by hbwgonnabe

"Come on in, Camille," Laura invited the girl when she knocked on her door that afternoon.

Camille turned and waved at her father before entering the house. She wanted a car but Matt insisted that without one Joe would expect her to rely on him even more. "Any word yet?" she asked her hostess as she followed Laura into the living room.

"No," Laura replied with a strained smile, turning to face the girl. "Please, sit down," she instructed. "Would you care for a soda or a snack?"

"No, thank you," Camille answered with a small shake of her head. "But what about you? I could fix you something to eat?" she offered. "I do want to help."

"You are helping just by being here," Laura assured the anxious young woman. "Please? Sit down and tell me a little about yourself."

"What would you like to know?" inquired Camille, sitting down on the chair next to the phone.

"Everything," Laura answered. "That is, if you are interested in a relationship with my son?" she amended.

Camille smiled. "I think so," she replied. "He is definitely the most considerate guy I have ever been out with and the more I talk to him, the more I like him."

"He seems quite taken with you as well," Laura stated. "I like your hair, by the way," she continued, looking at the soft curls around Camille's face.

"Thank you," Camille responded happily. "I tried to get it done at Shauna's Salon but every time I went in for my appointment, the girl would apologize and say she had overbooked. The last time I kind of lost my cool," she confessed. "I mean, it was the third time in two weeks! I let her know exactly what I thought of her apologies and I ended up going to some place in the mall that took walk-ins."

"Shauna's Salon?" Laura repeated with a nod. "I bet it was Andrea Ashley," she said. "She is notorious for that. Don't feel bad. I've lost my temper with her a time or two as well."

"You go there?" Camille inquired.

"I used to," Laura confessed. "But I got tired of Andrea and switched to another salon." She was glad she had mentioned Camille's hair. What Frank's friend had overheard had a good reason for happening.

"Let's see," Camille began. "My full name is Camille Rosalie Lane and..."

"That's pretty," Laura interrupted her.

"Rosalie was my grandmother's name," Camille informed Laura. "I never got to meet her," she continued. "She died before I was born."

"I'm sorry," Laura said.

"That's okay," Camille told her. "My dad's mom is still alive. We go visit her a few times a year."

"Where does she live?"

"New Mexico," Camille answered. "She loves the heat."

"Do you have any relatives close by?" Laura asked.

"No," Camille answered. "It's just Dad and me." She paused for a moment before changing the subject. "Could I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course," Laura answered a bit curiously.

"Is Joe really over Iola?" Camille asked, surprising Laura. Camille doubted Mrs. Hardy knew Iola had been pregnant with Joe's child when she died but she would be able to tell if he had truly moved on.

Laura frowned. How was she supposed to answer that one, she wondered? "I'm sorry," Camille apologized, misunderstanding Laura's hesitation in answering. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's not that," Laura hastily assured the girl. "It's just...I'm not sure."

"We're here," O'Neil said, waking Joe up with a gentle shove to his shoulder.

Joe opened his eyes and groggily sat up as straight as he could. He heard O'Neil fumble with his keys and soon Joe was released and hauled to a standing position. Before Joe could balance himself, he felt the handcuffs wrap his wrists again. O'Neil opened the door of the van and jumped out. "Come on, Joe," he said.

Joe moved forward and hopped out of the van with the assist of O'Neil's hand gripping his elbow tightly. "Where is here?" Joe asked, seeing nothing but grass. 

"We're just shy of Amarillo," O'Neil told Joe. "I came out here once on spring break my sophomore year in college," he informed Joe, leading him around to the front of the van where Joe could see a quaint little cottage sitting alone in a field. "We will stay here for a few days only. That's all I have brought supplies for. Then, we will finish our trip and you will be safely in your new home by the end of next week at the latest."

"How do you know no one is here?" Joe asked. "If it has been so long since you were here last?"

"I was here with the owner," O'Neil answered. "He died recently and his estate is still in arrears. This is one of the lesser profitable pieces so it should be awhile before the lawyers get out here. He had no family, you see, so we won't have to worry about greedy relatives either."

"Oh, joy," Joe replied dourly.

O'Neil smothered a laugh at Joe's disposition and escorted him to the cottage. "I put our stuff inside while you were still sleeping," O'Neil informed Joe.

"I'm supposed to say thank you or something?" Joe demanded, eyeing the cottage critically. There was a small kitchenette to the left and to the right there was a large sofa that looked like it opened into bed. There was a small fireplace against the back wall and one window facing the front of the cabin. Two doors were visible and Joe turned a questioning look at O'Neil. 

"Closet on the left and bathroom on the right," O'Neil informed him. "No electricity, I'm afraid, but we can manage."

"Sleeping arrangements?" Joe demanded.

"You get the sofa," O'Neil answered. "I have a sleeping bag."

Joe sighed, wondering if this nightmare could get any worse.

"I'm going to let you freshen up and then we will eat," O'Neil told Joe. "After that, I am going to have to leave you for a little while so I can ditch the van and get us another set of wheels."

Joe's heart sank. The van they had been traveling in was the only lead his family might have been able to trace. If O'Neil got rid of it, how would they ever find him?

Matt entered the living room at the Lane's, a satisfied smile on his face. "What are you so happy about?" Judge Lane demanded.

"I've located Joe and O'Neil," answered Matt. 


	16. Chapter 16

Stalked Chapter Sixteen by hbwgonnabe

Judge Lane looked at Matt in surprise. "How?" he asked. "The police haven't had any luck and Hardy and his son are driving everyone crazy by going over every bust O'Neil has made."

Matt sat down in the easy chair. "O'Neil is smart, I'll give him that," he said. "The only thing I could come up with were his gas purchases."

"What?" Lane asked looking utterly confused.

"You're on the run with a hostage," Matt began. "You can't use credit cards because they are too easily traced. If you pay cash then you have to go to a station that is open and someone would see you. But if you pay with gas gift cards you can get gas without worrying about any of that. Normally," he added, smiling.

"Gift cards have serial numbers that are activated when the card is inserted into the pump," Matt continued. "One of our men traced the purchases made beginning here in Bayport and ending in Amarillo, Texas."

"But how do you know it was O'Neil?" Lane pushed.

"The serial numbers were on cards issued to O'Neil two weeks ago," Matt answered. "Now, the problem is how to let the Hardys know the cards were used and can be traced?"

"Camille could mention it somehow," Lane suggested. "Since they have no actual leads, Fenton and Frank should be home for dinner tonight. I can call her now and give her the heads up."

"Do that," Matt agreed, stretching his arms and yawning. "I'm going to go catch some shuteye."

"This is worse than when Matt kidnapped Joe last month!" Frank moaned, wearily running a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time.

Fenton giggled. "I'm sorry," he apologized when Frank turned to glare at him. "Really. I know it's wrong. But you must admit, your brother is quite possibly the only person ever to average being kidnapped once a month. A man could make a career just out of rescuing him."

Frank sighed and closed his eyes. Lying his head back, he was grateful his father was driving. He couldn't argue. The term 'high maintenance' had been invented just for Joe and even that was an understatement at times. But he was worth the effort. "What do we do next?" Frank asked as they neared home. "It's pointless to wait for a call. O'Neil is too smart to allow Joe to talk to us for even a second."

"I don't know," Fenton admitted, his smile gone like a streak of lightning. "Chief Singleton is doing what he can in Miami. So far, no one has seen O'Neil and no one has heard from him for about six months." He sighed heavily as he pulled to a stop in the driveway. "At times like these, I wish Vanessa were still here. She had a knack for keeping Laura from worrying too much."

The two got out of the car and went inside to find Laura and Camille laughing gaily. "What's so funny?" Frank asked curiously.

"Your mom was telling me about the first time Joe lost his tooth and was afraid of the tooth fairy because she could go into his room while he slept and no one would know," Camille answered. "Poor kid," she added affectionately.

"Why don't you two wash up?" suggested Laura, rising from her seat and going over to kiss her husband on the cheek. "Camille and I will have dinner on the table when you get done and then you can tell us how close you are to finding Joe."

"Looks like Camille has the knack too," Fenton murmured , following Frank upstairs.

Soon the two returned and joined the ladies in the dining room. "Don't you even know if O'Neil took Joe away by plane, bus, train or car?" Camille inquired, looking upset after the two males revealed what little they had discovered.

"He hasn't left town by rail, bus or plane," Fenton stated with assurance. "Chief Collig has been having all departures checked since Frank called at school yesterday."

"So they are either still in Bayport or left by car," Frank said.

"I doubt they are still in Bayport," Camille stated.

"Why?" Laura asked her.

"Dad was talking about it last night," Camille explained. "He said O'Neil was too smart to hang around where he might be spotted."

"Good point," Laura acknowledged, scowling.

"And if they have already left Bayport we may never find Joe," Frank declared in despair.

"Maybe someone will recognize him when he stops for gas," Camille said hopefully. "O'Neil's and Joe's pictures are all over the media now."

"Unless he pays at the pump," Laura interjected.

"But that would be great!" Camille enthused. "You could track him through his credit purchases."

"He's too smart for that," Fenton said, shaking his head. "Even though we are keeping an eye on his cards. No," he continued. "He is probably using those gift cards."

"Can't you trace those?" Camille inquired.

"How?" Frank demanded. "They are readily available and you toss them after you use them."

"But don't they have a serial number or product code on them?" Camille asked. "If there was a problem with one the company should have some way of identifying the card."

"Maybe they do," Fenton said thoughtfully.

"But anyone could have purchased them," Frank said, shaking his head.

"True," agreed Fenton. "But it is an idea. Who knows? Every criminal messes up somewhere along the line. Maybe if he is using gift cards, he bought them with his credit card."

"How soon can you check it out?" Laura asked anxiously.

"Now," Fenton said, standing up and ignoring his dinner which hadn't been touched. "I'll call Jeb Marrow at FBI headquarters and have him check out past purchases on all of O'Neil's cards."

Fenton headed out of the dining room. On his way through the living room he stopped when the phone rang. He picked it up after the first peel ended. "Hardy residence," he said. "Fenton Hardy speaking."

"Just one moment," the voice on the other end said. Seconds later another voice came over the line. The words spoken made Fenton fall against the end table as his knees gave out. Tears fell from his eyes as the person continued to speak. 


	17. Chapter 17

Stalked Chapter Seventeen by hbwgonnabe

"Okay, I'm going to cuff you to the frame of the sofa bed," O'Neil told Joe after they had eaten. "It's time to ditch the van and get new wheels and I can't be worrying about you escaping while I am gone." He grinned at Joe's dour expression. "That thing is too heavy for you to even budge it let alone drag it so you can reach something that might enable you to pick the lock on the cuffs."

Joe's expression turned into a glare. He can smile, thought Joe. He wasn't the one forced into this predicament. Joe kept quite. Yelling had done him no good nor had reasoning: both of which he had tried as O'Neil prepared dinner and then as they ate. Maybe the silent treatment would work on O'Neil's nerves.

O'Neil disengaged Joe's left hand from the table leg and took him over to the sofa that had already been transformed into a bed. "I won't be gone any longer than I have to be," O'Neil promised Joe. "I know, you're going to have to get used to being alone but once we're settled into our new home you will have things to do to keep you from being bored. I'm even going to home school you."

O'Neil waited for Joe to say something. "Want a magazine or something while I'm out?" he asked. Again, only silence met his words. "How about a book to read while I'm gone?" Without waiting for a reply this time, he went over and pulled a book from one of the boxes he had transferred from the van and tossed it onto the bed beside Joe. "In case you go stir crazy, " he said.

Joe waited until he heard the van's engine fade away before trying to twist his wrist free of the cuff. He was fortunate that his captor only incapacitated one of his hands and his left one at that, for, unlike his brother, he was right handed.

Joe slipped off the bed and, with his left-hand, grabbed hold of the frame. He put his right hand next to his left and pulled. He pulled as hard as he could until sweat popped out on his forehead from the effort. "Is this thing bolted to the floor?" he wondered aloud, sitting down to rest for a few seconds.

"Okay," he said, thinking out loud. "Pulling isn't going to work and there is nothing I can reach except that stupid book." His scowl deepened with each word until, suddenly, a slow smile began spreading across his face.

He shoved the sofa's mattress over and spotted the wire frame. He began pulling and beating on one of the pieces. After almost an hour, he finally managed to break a piece off. Exuberant with triumph, he inserted the fractured metal into the handcuff lock at his wrist. After a little maneuvering, the lock clicked and he was free.

Joe ran outside ready to take off for the nearest town but stopped almost immediately. Looking around, he gave a heavy sigh. Was nothing ever easy, he wondered? The area was flat for miles. If he were to take off on foot then O'Neil would see him even if he didn't return for another hour! His only chance would be to overpower O'Neil and to do that he would have to surprise him. Joe went back inside. He had to think like a cop. He had to think like a crazy cop.

Before entering the cottage, O'Neil would most likely check the perimeters of the building and then the window. One way to throw him off guard would be if Joe were still on the sofa bed, asleep with the book lying partially off of his chest. But he would need a trap to get O'Neil at a disadvantage when he entered the cottage.

Having something in mind, Joe set about searching for some twine. "Even better," he said, opening a third drawer a little later and finding some wire. He used the wire to criss-cross the area in front of the door ankle high then stood up and admired his handiwork. He hadn't stopped at one cross section. Having no wire cutter, he had used the entire length making the area covered a full six feet plus of almost invisible wire from the entrance into the small living area. 

He turned his head back to the sofa, glancing through the window as he did so. His head snapped back to the window. "Blast it!" he snarled, seeing a blue Toyota coming toward the cottage. He had wanted to rig the window as well but there was no time. He only hoped O'Neil used the door.

Joe scurried back to the sofa bed and fixed the mattress. Lying down, he flipped the book open to page eighteen and lay it down so that it was a bit slanted off of his chest. Then he placed his wrist against the frame where O'Neil had handcuffed him and closed his eyes.

Joe heard the car stop and a door open. He tried hard to relax so that the rise and fall of his chest resembled that of someone in slumber. He resisted the urge to crack open an eye as he waited to hear the car door shut. If O'Neil saw him peeping his great escape would be over before it had even begun. After what seemed like an eternity but was in reality mere seconds, the car door shut. Where was O'Neil now? Did he know, Joe wondered as fear tried to take over his reasoning? No, he couldn't. Even Joe's freed hand wasn't visible to the window.

Eventually, the silence ceased to exist and Joe could hear the rapid palpitations of his heart. It reminded him of Tony practicing a particular beat on the drums until he got it down pat. Was O'Neil never going to come inside?

Just when Joe thought he could lie quietly no more he heard the door creak as it slowly opened. Joe pretended to stir but settled back down as O'Neil remained motionless in the entryway. Seconds ticked by then O'Neil began advancing into the room. One step. Pause. A second step. Anytime now, thought Joe as he mentally prepared himself to arise and pounce.

Another step and then another and then..."Aargh!" O'Neil shouted as he fell onto the wire.

Joe leapt from the bed, snatching up a small stool located just shy of the sofa bed and smashing it on top of O'Neil's head then lifting it back up, poised for a second blow if the situation warranted it. Joe stood there, breathing heavily from his pent-up anxiety and waited, but O'Neil remained motionless.

Setting the stool down, he knelt timidly and checked for a pulse. It was there but very faint. Joe paled when he saw the growing pool of blood surrounding O'Neil's body. "The wire," he moaned. O'Neil had fallen on the wire and it had ripped through his clothes and into his skin.

Joe couldn't leave O'Neil there. The man might bleed to death while he went searching for a phone which could be a long way away. He would have to take him along. Joe released the wire and O'Neil fell completely to the floor.

Easing him over onto his back, Joe made a quick assessment of the damage. The worst injury was to the area just above his heart. "Why did I have to make so many crosses with the wire?" Joe moaned, seeing the near fatal devastation his bid for freedom had caused. "O'Neil only wanted to protect me and if he doesn't get medical attention soon, I will have killed him!" 


	18. Chapter 18

Stalked Chapter Eighteen by hbwgonnabe

With some time, and a lot of effort, Joe managed to get O'Neil outside and into the back of the car. Climbing behind the wheel, he took off down the road. Ten miles later, the dust gave way to pavement only yards before he came to a highway. Joe stopped the car and looked both ways. There were no signs saying which way went where and he had no idea which way would take him to the nearest town. He turned left, praying this was the right direction and hit the gas.

The Toyota spun onto the highway and began picking up speed. Many more miles later he was pushing seventy-five miles an hour in an attempt to reach civilization when a blue light flashed and a siren started up.

"Thank God," Joe murmured, pulling the Toyota to a stop. He got out of the car as the police cruiser pulled to a stop behind him.

"I'm so glad to see you," Joe said, not going any closer to the cruiser than the rear door of the Toyota. He didn't want to spook the officer. "I have an injured person in the back that needs medical treatment now."

"Then why are you headed away from the hospital?" the highway patrolman demanded, staring at Joe suspiciously as he unsnapped the holster housing his gun.

"Because I have no idea where I am," Joe told him, moving a few feet away from the car as the officer motioned for him to do. "My name is Joe Hardy. The man in the backseat kidnapped me," he tried to explain. "I got loose and rigged a trap for him when he went to get rid of the van we had traveled here in but when he fell into my trap he got hurt really bad."

The officer peered into the car. "You did that to him?" he demanded, his face hardening.

"Yes," Joe confessed. "I didn't mean for him to get hurt, only to take him out for a bit so I could escape. He needs to go to the hospital."

The officer called dispatch and requested an ambulance and a tow to impound the car. "Against the car," he ordered Joe when he was done.

"I'm under arrest, right?" Joe asked, doing as he was instructed. He raised his arms and put them against the top of the car and spread his legs in classic mode.

"Done this before?" the officer asked, patting Joe down for weapons.

"Under the circumstances, it is what I would do," Joe said. "And you might as well know, the guy in the car was a cop with the Bayport Police Department."

The officer froze just shy of grabbing Joe's left wrist. "You did this to a cop?" he demanded in disbelief. "You're confessing?"

"He kidnapped me," Joe repeated his earlier declaration, wincing in pain as the officer roughly grabbed his wrist.

"You were his prisoner," the cop snarled, slapping the cuff on tight.

"Yes," Joe acknowledged wearily. "But not in the way you think," he added as the other bracelet encircled his right wrist behind his back.

Two hours later Joe had been processed and was sitting in an interrogation room at the county jail with Arnold Harmon, the chief of police. "Why?" Harmon asked Joe, sitting down in the chair across from him. "Why did you kill him?"

"Kill?" gasped Joe, his eyes widening in horror. "I didn't!" he denied.

"He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital," Harmon informed Joe.

"Oh, no," Joe whispered, stricken. He hadn't meant for this to happen. He had only wanted to escape.

"Talk!" snapped Harmon.

"I told the arresting officer," Joe said softly, still in shock. "O'Neil kidnapped me. I was only trying to get away but he got hurt in the process."

"Right," said the Chief in a smug tone. "You're the victim here."

"Call Ezra Collig," Joe said. "He's the chief of police in Bayport. Or call my dad. He's Fenton Hardy."

"And I'm the Easter Bunny," Harmon replied as the door to the interrogation room opened.

"Had an ear job so you wouldn't be recognized, I take it," commented the newcomer from the doorway.

Joe's eyes flew to the Network man's he knew only as Gray. "What are you doing here?" he inquired.

"Your name came up in a murder," Gray explained, entering the room and handing his identification to Chief Harmon. "Until Hardin is captured, you are on our alert list."

"He's wanted by the Network?" Harmon inquired, referring to Joe.

"He works for the Network," Gray corrected his assumption. "Albeit, freelance. And he has been telling you the truth. O'Neil was a kidnapper."

"O'Neil is dead," Harmon stated, looking a bit bewildered.

"That has already been established," Gray acknowledged. "Have you sent a team to where Joe was being held prisoner to check out his story?"

"Yes," Harmon said, nodding his head affirmatively. "I should be hearing from them soon."

"In the meantime, I suggest you leave the boy alone," Gray stated. He pulled out his cell phone and handed it to Joe. "You had better call home," he said.

Harmon snatched the phone. "I will call," he said, still not quite believing the youth was the son of Fenton Hardy. "Number?" he asked.

Joe and Gray spouted the number in unison and Harmon punched it in. He listened as the person answered then handed it to Joe without anymore objections.

"Dad?" Joe said, hearing his father's voice. "I'm okay but O'Neil is dead. I am at the Amarillo county jail in Texas. They have arrested me for murder." 


	19. Chapter 19

Stalked Chapter Nineteen by hbwgonnabe

"You sure you're all right?" Fenton demanded in a voice thick with emotion.

"I'm fine," Joe assured him. "Gray is here," he added.

"Put him on," Fenton commanded.

Joe handed the cell back to Gray. "He wants to talk to you," he said.

"Excuse me," Gray said, moving away to converse with Fenton in private.

"Sir, Killian wants to speak with you," an officer said to the chief from the doorway.

Harmon left the room, closing the door and locking Joe and the Gray Man inside. Joe crossed his arms on the table and laid his head down. All of the sudden he felt incredibly tired. Gray returned and sat down in the chair vacated by Harmon. "I told your dad I would have you home before morning," he said.

"Will I get to leave?" Joe asked, raising his head and looking at Gray.

"Yes," Gray answered without any trace of hesitation. "O'Neil's death was unfortunate but it was an accident," he said. "And, had he lived, he would probably have spent several years, if not the rest of his life, in a mental facility. His reasoning was unbalanced and that is a very dangerous thing for a man with his training."

Fenton hung up the phone, wiped his eyes, and took a few calming breaths before returning to the dinner table.

"Who was on the phone?" asked Frank anxiously, seeing his father's bloodshot eyes.

"Joe," Fenton answered, smiling and breathing a bit heavily as another wave of relief washed over him.

"Joe?" gasped Laura in surprise.

"Where is he? What about O'Neil? Did he get away or did O'Neil just let him call?" Frank fired off questions.

"Joe escaped," Fenton informed everyone. "Unfortunately, in doing so, he killed O'Neil. Joe is under arrest in Amarillo for murder."

"But it was an accident!" Laura protested. "Joe would never intentionally hurt anyone let alone kill someone."

"Shh!" Fenton tried to calm her. "Gray was with Joe when he called. Gray assured me that under the circumstances they don't have a case against Joe. He promised to bring him home as soon as he was released."

"When will that be?" Camille asked.

"He should be home by daybreak," Fenton answered.

"I'm so glad!" Camille enthused, her eyes misting. "I guess you have some things to do so I'll call Dad to come and pick me up now."

"I'll take you home," offered Frank.

"Thank you," Camille accepted the offer with a smile. "I would appreciate that."

Frank stood and began clearing the table. "I'll help," Camille offered.

"No, dear," Laura refused her help as she stood and began helping Frank. "You've been such a comfort this afternoon. Just take it easy. Frank will be ready in a few minutes to drive you home."

"If you're sure?" Camille asked, looking hesitant.

"Positive," Laura replied, smiling and taking the dirty dishes from Camille. She followed Frank from the room leaving Fenton to chat with Camille.

"Frank," Laura said in a hushed tone after letting the kitchen door close behind her. "What your friend overheard...Camille told me about it. She was very upset and with good reason. I've had problems at that salon myself."

"So she has your stamp of approval?" Frank inquired, quirking an eyebrow and grinning.

"Definitely," Laura said. "I like her. She seems genuinely interested in Joe. A lot like Iola was but Camille has more spirit."

"Something Joe noticed right off the bat," Frank put in.

Laura nodded. "She's fresh, but in a nice way. I think she will be perfect for Joe."

"Okay," Frank said, kissing his mom's cheek. "I'll treat her like I treated Vanessa," he promised. "Now, I had better get her home because we're going to need a nap before Joe gets home."

"Yes," Laura agreed, smiling happily. "Joe will have a lot to tell us when he gets here."

"Thanks for the ride, Frank," Camille said when Frank pulled to a stop in front of her house.

"Any time," Frank told her. "And thank you," he added. "You really helped mom through this."

"No thanks necessary," she replied. "I was glad to do it. I like your mom."

"I'll have Joe call you in the morning," he promised as she got out.

"Thanks," Camille said. "See ya," she added before hurrying up the sidewalk and into her house.

"He's gone," Judge Lane said from by the window less than a minute after Camille had entered. 

"Did you get Fenton to access the gift card records?" Matt asked Camille.

"I did," acknowledged Camille, smiling slowly as she continued. "But he didn't get that far."

"Explain," her father ordered.

"Hardy was on his way to look into it but was stopped by a phone call," she told them, relishing the look on Matt's face as it transformed from concern to curiosity and...amazement. "It was Joe. Not only did he escape, but he killed O'Neil in the process."

Matt burst out laughing. "I knew he had it in him!" He declared in admiration. 


	20. Chapter 20

Stalked Chapter Twenty by hbwgonnabe

"You coming in?" Joe asked Gray when he stopped in front of the Hardy household without killing the motor of the rental.

"Not this time," Gray declined the invitation. "Try to stay out of trouble, hmm?"

Joe grinned at him then got out of the car and went inside. "I'm home!" he called out. The words weren't even out of his mouth before Frank and his parents appeared in the foyer.

"Oh, baby," Laura said, wrapping her arms around her son.

Joe hugged her back and gave an involuntary sigh of relief. It felt good to be home. He looked at his brother. "Reynolds?" he inquired.

"Is fine," Frank answered. "How about you? What happened? Why did O'Neil kidnap you? How did he die? How did you get out of jail?"

Joe sighed heavily. "Come on in and sit down," Laura commanded before he could answer. "Are you hungry?"

"Actually, yes," Joe acknowledged, releasing his hold on her with a little reluctance.

"Then go into the living room and relax for a little bit. I will fix us all some breakfast and you can tell us while we eat," Laura reached up and patted his cheek affectionately before hurrying toward the kitchen.

Fenton took Laura's place at Joe's side and gave him a quick, tight hug. "We were so worried," he said, his tone more fierce than he realized.

"I was too," Joe said with a self-conscious grin. He shook his head. "O'Neil wasn't a bad guy. Just..." he paused, searching for the right word. "Confused," he ended.

Frank came over and took his turn at embracing his brother then led him into the living room. He was anxious to find out what had happened but knew better than to get Joe to talk without their mother present. Fortunately, breakfast didn't take long to prepare and Fenton even helped by setting the table and pouring the orange juice. Joe took a few bites before beginning the tale of his ordeal. When he finished, his face was not only sad but also distraught. "I shouldn't have fixed that trap," he moaned, shaking his head. "I killed him."

"It was an accident," Fenton told his son firmly. "You had to get away. O'Neil was a strong man with a background in martial arts."

"He was?" Joe gasped in surprise.

Fenton nodded his head. "He obtained his black belt when he was only sixteen and didn't stop there. Even if you didn't know it, using the wire the way you did was probably the only way you could have escaped. The fact that he fell on it the way he did was really a fluke. I've used the same rig myself a few times. There were injuries but nothing life threatening."

Joe gave his dad a small smile. "Thanks, Dad," he said. He didn't know if his dad was saying that just to make him feel better or not, but it was working nevertheless.

"What about the murder charges?" Laura asked. "Were they dropped or do you have to go back to Texas?"

Joe shook his head in response. "They were dropped. The police ruled it an accident as well."

"You need to call Camille when you finish breakfast," said Frank, changing the subject. "She's been really worried about you."

"She has?" Joe asked, looking a bit pleased.

"I like her," Laura said. "She came over yesterday while your brother and father were out looking for leads. She's a very nice girl."

"You don't mind her being a bit, well, opinionated?" Joe inquired. He liked Camille a lot but he knew what others thought of her.

Laura raised an eyebrow at her youngest son. "Like you, you mean?" she countered.

Joe laughed out loud at that. "Yeah, but we get along in spite of ourselves."

"Finish your breakfast and then go call her," Fenton said, looking at his youngest son with a critical eye. "You look exhausted. I want you in bed soon."

"I am pretty beat," Joe admitted. "I don't suppose this warrants a day out of school?" he inquired, cocking a hopeful eyebrow at his father.

Fenton smiled as he shook his head. "You'll be fully recovered by Monday morning," he replied. He had to give his son credit; in spite of everything he had endured as a junior detective and as the blood son of an Assassin, Joe was still a typical teenager in some aspects.

Joe finished his breakfast and left his parents and brother to clear the table while he went into the living room and called Camille.

"Hi, babe," Joe said in his sexiest voice when Camille answered her line. 

"Joe!" Camille squealed in delight. "Are you all right? When did you get home?"

"About an hour ago," Joe answered the last question first. "And I'm okay, I guess."

"You guess?" she asked.

"Remember what we talked about not too long ago?" he asked her. "If I take after my family, the one I was born into not the one I was raised by?"

"Yes," she replied slowly.

"I killed O'Neil when I escaped," Joe informed her. "I guess I take after them in spite of my environment," he continued. "I...I don't know who I am anymore."

This concludes Stalked. Stay tuned for the next installment in this trilogy. 


End file.
